The Multiverse Project: Bioshock
by TMO MelonMaster
Summary: The past are loathsome thing. An eternal scar that lingered like haunting apparition, never to fade and find peace, a reminder of what was and what will be. Eleanor Lamb and Elizabeth DeWitt thought themselves free from the horror of sea and sky, but both will learn that what was left behind never truly dies.
1. Author's Foreword

Hello readers!

First off, thank you for reading this little story of mine. Please feel free to comment and review to your heart's content, every input is greatly appreciated.

Now, before we begin I found it prudent to give all of you a little warning regarding what you will find in this fan fiction.

Firstly, grammars and spellings. With English being my second language it is more than likely that there will be grammatical errors within the story. For this, I heartily apologize and will strive to be more thorough in the future when editing my work.

Secondly, this story is rated M for a reason. As the storyline progress you can be sure that things will get a lot bloodier, with scenes of graphic violence and disturbing images in abundance. Also, there will be crude humor and ethical dilemma that many will find most definitely offensive. And before anybody ask, no, I am not going out of my way to offend people, only that my brand of storytelling is far from being PG and PC. Think of this story as the Stone Cold Steven Austin days of the WWE, not John Cena. But if you're uncomfortable with the content then I apologize. Alas, this story is not for you. Oh, and swearing. There are fuck loads swearing.

Thirdly, references everywhere. There will be multiple allusions to other video games, movies, books and other miscellaneous happening in the world. Some are well known while other are more obscure, so don't worry if you get a little lost. If you have any question feel free to ask in the review or just simply go to Google. Rest assure however, that I will keep meme to a bare minimum.

Lastly, this is not one of those fan fiction where wide eyed original characters are suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar universe where they must survive while coming to term with their new responsibility to save the world. In this story that ship have already sailed. The eight original characters can be describe as veteran in their line of work, having already seen and done some serious shits in the past that would be hinted throughout the fan fic. You can say they are quite comfortable with their predicament.

Oh, and this fan fiction is also a semi-musical.

And that's about it for the disclaimer. So without any further ado, ladies and gentlemen I give to you:

The Multiverse Project: Bioshock.

Have fun.


	2. Introducing the Eight

Legs stretched lazily on the low coffee table overflowing with Blu-Ray discs, drinks and snacks, toe waggling to an absentminded tune, Tangmo felt a moment of bliss as he skimmed through the channels his cable service had to offer. The time was now exactly one o'clock and he was home on a comfy couch in front of a twenty nine inch plasma TV, one of the most recommended methods of spending a slow, therapeutic Friday afternoon. And to think that two hours before he was still in school languishing through a dull geography class with the dreaded three hours long physic class waiting just after lunch break.

It was about eleven and the geography teacher was droning on slowly about the earth crust, his idea of an engaging class was to mimic the speed of a tectonic plate. Tangmo's eyelids were stuttering on the brink of wakefulness when the entire campus was rocked by a loud bang that left his ears ringing and every glass shattered. Then everybody started screaming and stampeding to the door like pigs at a slaughterhouse, and just as obnoxiously loud. With the class being held on the ground floor, Tangmo opted to simply parkour his ass out of the window, others still inside followed suite with varying degrees of grace, clumsiness and hilarity.

The entire school was in pandemonium.

Teachers were shouting, students were crying and snapping shots with their phone, and parents called demanding to know whether ISIS just blew up the school.

As it turns out, the school's five residence Cro-Magnons decided to immortalize themselves in history by recreating a certain antic they saw on YouTube. And it just so happens that said antic involved fire and explosion. Nobody really knew what the hell happened. According to some, those fives manages to light up the school's entire gas line by screwing around with a Bunsen burner. It must be partially true, because once the smokes and fires cleared more than half of the orange brick building was in rubble, with the epicenter being a huge crater where the science lab used to be. It was nothing short of a miracle no one died or got seriously injured. Just a few singed eyebrows and black sooty booboos.

Predictably, those idiots were expelled on the spot. Damn shame though, Tangmo had to admit that he wouldn't mind see another one of their spectacular display of moronic ingenuity. But then next time he and his friends might not be so lucky, so good riddance to those fucks. Unsurprisingly, the entire afternoon classes were canceled. Students roared in jubilation, but quickly turned into a whaling groan when the principle promised them that school will resume as normal on Monday. After chowing down a free lunch, since the cafeteria building was undamaged, Tangmo quickly hitched a taxi home to spend his afternoon in slothful contentment.

So here he was, aimlessly flipping through channels after channels, stuffing his face with Frito-Lay chips and downing it with a glass of Coke, the ice cold beverage countering the evil Bangkok heat nicely. His Pug bear witness to his sinful display of gluttonous indulgence, tail wagging as he came to sat at his feet, eyeballing him with the look that say 'give me some food human, or I'm not going away'. Tangmo spared him a glance before turning back to the TV, giving himself another mouthful, chewing loudly.

"Like hell I'm giving you anymore snack, lard ass." Tangmo said to the Pug, how refused to budge from his seat, staring at him with its gleaming, googly eyes. That trick might have worked on his parents but not him.

"Alright enough of this crap, let's see what's on." Done with his preliminary reconnaissance of the current programs, Tangmo pressed a blue button on the remote and brought up the cable schedule for the premium movie channels.

"Let's see…Edge of Tomorrow on HBO and Prisoners on Fox Movies. Damn, tough choices."

What would be a suitable flick for the afternoon? A sci-fi Groundhogs Day starring Tom Cruise or Hugh Jackman torturing a kidnapped victim because he thought said kidnapped victim kidnapped his daughter?

Spoilers by the way.

Welp, Hugh Jackman it is then.

Changing the channel, Tangmo groaned audibly when he was greeted with commercials, the counter on the top right side of the screen ticking down from the ten minutes mark. Ten minutes before the movie starts? Fine, he'll watch the news then, with so much shit happening all the damn time it pretty much substitute for entertainment now a day.

And he wasn't disappointed.

Cutting across the screen was the bright red 'Breaking News' banner CNN always used when something particularly earth shattering was happening. It's never anything good though, because death was more profitable than hope. The silver haired Anderson Cooper was at his desk, prim and serious as he turned to camera and speaks:

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, for those just joining us here are the top stories we're following this hour. Dog Fight diplomacy, Washington and Moscow in a row after an unconfirmed incident over Syria where fighters from both countries reported to have flew a close sortie against one another during a routine bombing against ISIS target. President Obama and President Putin are now holding an emergency cabinet meeting to verify the validity of the story."

Well shit, just when he thought this was going to be a nice easy afternoon. Hope everything was just a misunderstanding though, because if it isn't…

"We now go to Christiane Amanpour in Hong-Kong for a developing story, Christiane can you hear me?"

There was a five seconds feedback delay where Amanpour just stared soullessly at the camera before speaking:

"Yes Anderson, reports are coming in that there is a standoff between the Chinese Navy and the Japanese Coast Guard near the Senkaku Islands, or the Diaoyu Islands as it is called by the Chinese. Japanese sources are claiming that Chinese vessels entered the disputed area water with, and I quote, malicious intent. While Chinese official are saying that the Japanese Coast Guard were being driven out of their sovereign water. The premier of both countries has refused comment."

Looks like CNN was going to have a field day. Many other less important, but equally morbid news flashes in sharp bright bulletin to intersect between the two major, World War III grade, top stories. Mass shooting, tides of refugee, terrorism, new epidemics, it was as if the whole world just suddenly decided to take a nosedive into hell. Tangmo's laugh was sardonic, suddenly finding himself humming a tune as an anchorman began gushing over the latest shooting in the States. Words suddenly finding its way into the hum and he began singing just as the static camera footage showed the shooter unloading his assault rifle on a frightened crowd.

 _"_ _As the violence surges, the teeming masses have been terrorized."_

The images suddenly shifted to another anchorwoman now heartily showing the mass of teary eyes refugee trying to get through a border to safety. The woman did her best to sound like she gives a damn, but it ill hide the excitement in her voice.

 _"_ _The human predators all gone mad, are reaping profit born from their demise."_

The screen now returns to Amanpour, detailing the historically grievances between China and Japan, carelessly showing the gruesome black and white film reels of the Second Sino-Japanese war.

 _"_ _The rabid media plays their role, stroking the flame of war to no surprise."_

Now it was back Anderson Cooper, quickly going over the statistic of both Russian and United State military standing, montage of the Red Army and the Marine Corp in various conflicts provided the moving backdrop.

 _"_ _Only too eager to sell their souls, for the apocalypse must be televised."_

Tangmo got off his couch and began cleaning the coffee table, picking up empty bags of chips and crushed cans that littered the glassy black surface and putting them into correct bins.

"Come on, let's go." Tangmo held a piece of chip between his fingers, dangling it over his Pug who began salivating and fidgeting uncontrollably on his hide leg, panting a goofy grin.

"Catch." He threw it across the room and his Pug bolted after it, slipping on the polished floor a few time before pouncing on the piece of salty snack voraciously, realizing too late that he was inside his kennel. He spun just in time to see Tangmo closing the door and snapping on the lock, waving at him mockingly. The Pug gave him a look that says: 'You better lock your goddamn door at night from now on because I'm going to be paying you a nocturnal visit with a kitchen knife in my mouth."

He was about to turn off the TV when loud knocks came from the second floor. Five concussive pounding boomed from the direction of his bedroom, the muffled bangs indicating that the knocks came from within his sanctum. Smiling, Tangmo switched off the TV and heeded the call, ascending nonchalantly up the second floor, knowing full well that he was the only one home at this moment.

Reaching the door to his bedroom Tangmo wasted no time and swung it open to find a familiar blinding white glared greeting him instead of the mundane image of his unlit room. Lowering his hand when his vision adjusted to the bright glow, Tangmo found a pristine round table of polished ceramic standing directly before him. Nine seats circled its circumference. Nine huh? Not surprising judging by the news. It wasn't until he swung his door shut that Tangmo realized that seven other individual had also entered this strange, wall-less room of infinite white. They exchanged greeting before walking over to the table and took their seat.

Now to break the norm of storytelling and to speed things up a bit, here is the rundown summary of the eight individuals, known collectively amongst themselves as The Eight, now seated around the round table like King Arthur's knights.

Just a quick note, there are two things they all have in common:

Firstly, they are all aficionados and enthusiasts of the popular modern art form that is movies, comic books, video games, novels of the fantasy and science fiction persuasion, and Heavy Metal music. Basically, they're nerds.

Secondly, they are all of the age of eighteen with some minor variation in months.

So with that out of the way, here are dramatis personae:

Firstly we have Tangmo, a tall dark haired lad with a lean athletic body from Bangkok, Thailand. You think Thai people are all smiley and friendly? This dude will make everything from Ong-Bak and The Raid look like a Disney movie. Unstoppable in close combat and favoring high-powered close range firearms, he love to get up close and personal in a fight. Fearsome as he is in a fight, his prowess in politic rivaled his penchant for bloody melee. Taking lessons from the likes of Frank Underwood and Petyr Baelish, many had wished they never invoke Tangmo's less violent side. Politic carved a deeper, bloodier wound that any conventional weapons after all. However, he still preferred the route of blunt persuasion, complemented by a loaded gun for extra leverage.

Next is Laura, white skinned with long, wavy auburn hair that scalded down the side of her attractive, haughty visage. Born to a Scottish father and an English mother, Laura represents the best of both worlds, possessing an aristocratic grace and sophistication that is complemented by a ferocious, indomitable spirit. One moment she could be daintily sipping tea on a porch, the next she'll be cleaving your head open with a claymore. An absolute pyromaniac, if Pyro from Team Fortress was ever to find a soul mate, she would one of the top contenders for the spot. Obsess with incendiary weapons to the point of unhealthy obsession, she love to watch the world burn. She is also classified as an atheist extremist, following the Dawkin doctrine when dealing with religion and all notion of faith.

Then we have Henry, a black man, or African American for the ultra-sensitive crowd, sporting a shaven head and large intimidated frames of stacked muscle. Coming out of the Upper West Side, New York city, Henry exude an image of authority that is backed by a swift, thoughtful and precise mind that is invaluable to the Eight, commanding and directing plans absent fear and doubt. Versatile in all form of modern warfare, the man greatest asset however was his granite like fists. Nigh unbeatable in a boxing match, his skill was the equivalent of rolling every character in the Rocky franchise and the Hajime no Ippo manga into one, then combining them with Mike Tyson. He was so good in fact that he even beat Tangmo in a Muay Thai vs. boxing match. Also, he's probably that one in ten thousand African American that listens and greatly enjoy European Heavy, Power and Progressive Metal. How's that for breaking stereotype?

Yuki is next, hailing from Tokyo, Japan, her lovely oval face frame by shiny ebon locks cut short in an asymmetric style that veiled one side of her visage while revealing the other. And look, an Asian woman with no freaking neon shade highlights anywhere on her hair! She was really proud of that. Master of all form of Japanese martial arts, both real and fictitious, Yuki is the calm stillness that heralded the icy storm, biting cold and merciless to all in its path. Beside the obligatory katana, the one cliché she proudly bears, Yuki is most deadly with a pistol in each hand. A word of caution though, never say Kung-Fu's better than Karate to her face unless you want to wake up the next day drugged with a paralytic agents and get your foot slowly sawed off with a piano wire.

Next up is Erik, a native of Stockholm, Sweden and the Eight de facto nice guy. Similarly built like Tangmo, more fleet than bulky, and sporting long golden locks common with the average metalheads, the Swede will be the first to always pursue nonviolent diplomacy, seeking a peaceful compromise and always seeing the best in people, much to the unending annoyance of his colleagues. He might see himself as a spiritual successor to Gandhi and Mandela, but Erik is in actuality the White Death reincarnated, for when words failed bullets can substitute nicely enough. The best marksman among the Eight, and quite possibly in multiple universes, he has ten thousand, and counting, confirmed kill with his rifle without the use of a scope. Apparently every sniper quintessential tool was in his words, distracting. So unless you want him hunting, you better be nice and courteous.

Next in line is Nikki, the femme fatale of Moscow, Russia. Pale and beautiful like the snow of her native homeland; Nikki's long platinum blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail that revealed her elven like face. The Tolkien kind not those freaky looking ones from Warhammer. If Erik was the shooter, she's the pointer. A scout of the most frightening efficiency, there is no place in the world or the cosmos you can hide from her. Every rustling of the wind, falling chime of a dewdrop, the awning creaks of wood and the very soundless hush was her, creeping ever closer. And as stated before she excel in the act of espionage, both the shadowy aspect and the more showy side, dashing and alluring in the limelight like a deadly flower attracting its prey. She's basically James Bond with boobs, and just as flamboyant and cheeky.

Then hither came Damien, rumbling out of the Cimmerian north known as Toronto, Canada. Fair skin with blond hair cut military short, the man was built like a mountain. If you thought Henry was big then Damien would outweigh him, purely on muscle mass alone, by about fifty pounds. His powerful burly form was that of Arnold Schwarzenegger at his prime and The Rock in his current state, a massive boulder of a human that love nothing more than to bull-charge straight into a fight without thought or hesitation. And before anybody ask, no, he doesn't say 'aboot' nor does his head detached from his lower jaw when speaking. But don't let his hulking form deceive you, beneath the warrior physique lies the mind of a top class mechanical engineer. No feat of machinery too small or too great that he can't fix or create. If it got steel, wires and oil then you can be sure Damien can turn it into a weapon somehow.

Lastly we got Lita, the lithe and divine senorita from Mexico City, Mexico. With a complexion of gleaming honeyed copper and a smile of angelic creation, Lita is the most approachable and, depending on who you ask, the most likable of the Eight. But behind her friendly demeanor lay a sharp and wicked mind that is both frightening in its creativity and unstoppable in its single-mindedness. Dubbed the residence Quartermaster, Lita had created all sort of unbelievable tools and gadgets that have been vital to the Eight in their most dire moments. There will never be limit to creativity Lita had said, a mantra she lived by as she craft some new, reality defining creation for herself and friends. It is also an agreed consensus amongst the Eight that Lita products were of higher quality than that of Damien, being more dependable and prettier to use than the Canadian more rough and unpredictable hardware.

Now that the characters have been introduced, let's return to the main story:

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Nikki piped up as Tangmo seated himself down, accusing face honing on the groggily looking Henry.

"It's too early for this shit." He mumbled, large palms rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 1pm in Thailand was 2am on the East Coast after all.

"Why the fuck did Obama shot down one of our jets?!" She pressed on, arms folded across her chest.

Henry craned his head in her direction, slowly, with no small amount of annoyance. "Do I look like the fucking president?"

Nikki tilted her head like a confused puppy before saying: "Is that a trick question?"

That jolted Henry awake, growling threateningly at Nikki. "What did you say?"

"Aww, can't take a joke?" Even snarling Nikki was quite an alluring sight to beheld, her poisonous smile a vice of utter beauty.

Henry launched from his seat and lunged at her, held back by the lightning fast Erik who rose to hold him back. Nikki was giggling as Erik did his best to push the enraged American back, his smaller frame doing an admirable job withstand the furious onslaught of shoving shoulders and clawing hands.

"Dude! Calm down man! Chill!" Erik looked petrified as he spoke, barely able to keep Henry out of arms reach from Nikki.

"I'm gonna kick your ass!" Henry bellowed and Nikki blew him a kiss. "Let me go!"

"She's going to be the one doing the ass kicking dude, so stop! You're going to get yourself kill!"

And Henry did, his squirming ceased but it was not for the reason Erik had wanted.

"What!?" Henry's hands shot up and the meaty fingers squeezed around Erik's neck, shaking the paling Swede like a frightened, dying rabbit. "You think I can't take her on? You think I can't?!"

"Oh, you sure showed me." Nikki smirked. Erik was already passing from antemortem into postmortem when Henry realized what he was doing. Shocked by his inability to control his anger, Henry quick released Erik mere seconds before Damien intervened, his body flopping on to the table, gaping and a coughing like a fish on land.

"Holy shit dude, I'm so sorry! Its…I'm…I didn't get any sleep…I wasn't think clearly…she…shit I'm so sorry." His breathing haggard, Erik managed a smile before giving Henry a friendly slap on the shoulder and a thump ups. Henry returned the gesture before turning to Nikki. "I'll remember this."

"I'm quivering with fear." Nikki gave an exaggerated damsel flaunt, playing to the crowd around the table who were watching the unfolding event like an unscripted sitcom with aloof hilarity. Tangmo was in the after burn of a laughing fit when Yuki gave him a nudge on the hip.

"Don't you have school today?" She inquired in a cool breezy voice, eyeing his attire of short and t-shirt flaked with crumbs of chips.

"A holiday perhaps? Lucky you." Laura chimed in, her classy English accent velvety smooth to the ears.

"Well, not exactly," Tangmo began, giving his shirt a good swipe. "Half the school burned down. And no, it wasn't my fault, just a bunch of moron fucking with the gas line. So I got half a day off."

"Like she said, lucky you." Yuki pouted.

"So what's up with the whole island thing? CNN sounded pretty excited about a new war."

Yuki just scoffed. "It's just the Chinese being Chinese, they know better than to piss us off."

"They look pretty serious this time love." Laura brow irked slightly.

"Don't worry, it's just their usual haughty self-righteous chest puffing bullshit they always do."

"If you say so."

"Anybody want to guess what is happening?" Lita spoke up after a long yawn, her body arched in a lazy stretch, pronounced shapely form pressed tight against her loose t-shirt. Tangmo received a double smack across his head from Laura and Yuki for being less than subtle in admiring the Latino impressive physique.

"Naughty boy." She winked at Tangmo. "But seriously, what is going on?"

"Better revved up those chainswords boys and girls," Damien got that eager look on his face again, relishing in the action soon to come. "I know a big fight when I see one."

"You goddamn right it's big." A heavy masculine voice boomed after a concussive slam of closing door. All conversation died as every eye in the room turned to the large figure striding toward them. It was their boss, the cosmic entity known only as The Master.

Having existed since the first primate formed coherent thought and conscious, the Master was a sort of gate guardian between the infinite numbers of universes that is linked to the real world. Everything ever written, filmed, scripted, all of them a universe in their own right, all linked to the progenitor realm that birthed it, namely the artists of our world.

It was easier in the distance past, according to the Master, to make sure that all those realities connected to earth stayed within their established canon since back then there wasn't that many. Now, it was massive clusterfuck, with new reality coming to life almost every single day, most thankful faded to insignificant obscurity, while some rose to prominence, its bond to our world strengthen as a result, and whenever any of these realities swayed, however slightly, from their established paradigm, then our world was, to put lightly, fucked. The Eight's job was as simple as it could be, un-fuck the canon and restore it to a balance state.

Despite being an ancient omniscient watcher and guardian of immense power, the Master has elected to take a form of a middle-age man with a shoulder length hair and thick beard, the gruffly commander archetype you see in the Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones or any other fantasy fiction. His face was stern, harden with age and experience, sharp brown eyes calculating and commanding, a glare from him can compel anyone to obey him.

He was an image of leadership and respect, which was why Tangmo found himself gawking at the Master who now wore a dirty raincoat stained with unwashed scum, a decrepit jean overall and shirt, and a boot that blew him raspberry every time it took a step. In one hand, he carried three cups of steaming coffee which he handed to Henry, Lita and Damien, in the other a plate of pastries which he placed at the center of the table before seating himself down.

"Thank you." Henry took a sip, followed by a contented sigh.

"Nice." Damien concurred, blowing into the cup after burning his lips.

"Why are you dressed like a hobo?" Nikki inquired, taking a nip at a blue macaroon.

"I'll get to that." The Master seated himself down, pulled the chair closer to the table and straightened his back. "Now, as many of you might have already noticed the world is spiraling into hell."

"Yeah, we know." Laura said to the affirming nod of the Eight. "Looks like World War III is about to start."

"Good that you are all aware of the severity of the situation."

"Of course we know what's at stake here," Damien placed his empty cup down, "I'll be damned if some stupid ass war delay the Batman v Superman premier. I tell you right now, I'm going to be super piss if that happens."

"And Civil War too, don't forget Civil War." Erik added, the room murmuring in agreement.

"Screw Superman and Captain America, I'm more worried about whether Jon Snow survived or not." Tangmo added.

"What's there to worry about? He's deader than dead." Yuki gave him a scanting look before adding: "And fuck Olly, seriously."

"But Melisandre is bringing him back." Lita sounded hopeful.

"Pfft, that shit was such a bad red herring I feel sorry for all the idiots that fell for it." Nikki snorted.

"Don't you mean red Harington?" The room spluttered into a laughing fit at Henry's pun.

"Ha! But seriously though he's coming back." Tangmo reaffirmed his position.

"Yes, of course. I have a friend who knows a friend who knew this guy working on the Belfast set and he totally say that Jon Snow is definitely alive." Laura gave her less than concrete input.

"It's good to see that all of you have your priority set straight," the Master sarcasm was ill-hidden, head shaking in disgust. "Millions could possibly die in an apocalyptic global war and all you care about is your movies and TV."

"Do we need a better reason?" Tangmo asked.

"I supposed you don't," the Master shrugged.

"So where do we need to go?" It was Henry who inquired, fingers rhythmically tapping the table. "Let me guess, back to the grim darkness of the 41st Millennium? Westeros getting over run by White Walkers? The Undying Land under siege again? The Lurker at the Threshold poking his tentacle where it doesn't belong? Rouge Azath House popping in a less than fantastical place?"

A wicked, almost playful grin carved across the Master bearded face then. "None of the above Henry. But I have a feeling you and Damien will like what I am about to show you next."

The surprised American and Canadian was about to speak when the Master reach into his raincoat and withdrew three Xbox 360 video game cases and pushed them to the center of the table. The cover of a Big Daddy, Subject Delta with a Little Sister on his shoulder and Booker DeWitt starring back at them. There was a moment of silent realization before Henry and Damien exploded into a loud, obnoxious cheer like one of those Mountain Dew Doritos montages. Tangmo and Erik joining with equal volume. The girls however, appeared less than enthusiastic, with palpable rolling of eyes and faces scrunched up in annoyance.

"We're going to Rapture and Columbia!" Henry practically squealed as he shook Erik, the Swede welcoming the gesture this time.

"Wrong again Henry." The Master interrupted them with a swaying index finger, the yelling stopped.

"Wait, if we're not going there then…" the Master flipped the Bioshock Infinite case around before Tangmo could finished his sentence and pointed to the concern looking heroine, Elizabeth, dominating the back cover.

"She died in the DLC…" Erik visage was one of mournful recollection before morphing into a glowing realization. In that moment, his thoughts were seemingly transferred to the other boys who suddenly wore the same facial expression as him, a hivemind sharing its euphoria with the drones. Damien screamed the singular object on their minds:

"Holy shit dude, we're bringing her back to life!"

If they were loud before, the boys were now louder than a Manowar concert at Wacken, fists and corna pumping the air aggressively to a cacophonous, rapturous ovation. Again, the girls just groan with no small amount of revulsion.

There was no denying that one of the greatest things Bioshock Infinite gave to the world was the loveable, yet tragic heroine, Elizabeth DeWitt, who has captured the hearts of gamers the world over. A million voice rose in broken lamentation at her death, deemed unjustified by many, at the end of the Burial at Sea Part 2 DLC. Like his comrades, it had taken Tangmo weeks to get over that painful experience, although he suspected that it took Henry and Damien significantly longer to cope. There were no Elizabeth fanboy bigger than those two. It is of little surprise then that Ken Levine name was now added to the boys' litany of hatred.

"Sorry boys, but I already did that," the statement brought all activity in the room to a standstill, explosive hyperbole giving way to incredulous, some accusatory, looks directed at him. "Now, let me explain what exactly is happening."

Settling down, the boys seated themselves and cast sparkling inquisitive eyes toward the Master, bouncing at the edge of expectation. The girls looked about ready to go to sleep.

"Before we get to Elizabeth I have something off a…confession to make." The Master's word trailed off, eyes darting nervously like a child about to confess his misbehaving, trying to find the right word for the judgmental parents before him. Tangmo could barely contain his grin at the sight.

"I…" The Master seeks the correct words, "I broke the covenant that I myself have written. Driven by sentimentality and my careful calculation that such action wouldn't result in a ripple effect across the cosmos, I have directly intervened with the Bioshock universe on three separate occasions. All of which at the conclusion of the game."

"Okay, nice to know." Tangmo just rolled his eyes, he was as surprised as seeing the sun rising every freaking morning. "So what does any of that have to do with Elizabeth coming back to life?"

"Before I can get to Elizabeth resurrection I need to recount the event that transpired after the end of previous games, more specifically Bioshock 2." The Master continued. "For you see our current predicament also concern another Bioshock franchise heroine, the often overlooked Daughter of Rapture, Eleanor Lamb. The looming storm, its birth and effect, is entwined with both Elizabeth and Eleanor."

"Oh yeah Delta's daughter, the badass Big Sister." Laura snapped her finger, showing genuine interest.

"That sounds really cool, always thought Eleanor never gets enough love," Lita added. "So tell us what happened already."

"Okay, Okay," the Master cleared his throat. "Now where do I begin…"


	3. Eleanor Rising

_**Grainy Flashback Footage.**_

Eleanor sat in silent contemplation, tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the crude doll slowly sank beneath the calm, crystal wave of the Atlantic, glittering gold in the cloudless rising dawn. The flimsy cone hand of the doll swayed softly as it sank beyond her vision, a final wave goodbye. Wiping her wet stingy eyes, Eleanor glanced at the rescued former Little Sisters and felt a smile tugging her lips. The girls were dancing, laughing and singing in the sun just as any children should, full of joyous wonderment and the unshakable belief of a brighter day just beyond the horizon. Rising to her feet, Eleanor strode over to the unmoving form of the Alpha Series Big Daddy designated Subject Delta, her protector, her savior…her father. Kneeling at his side, she thought of removing the helmet, to finally see the man inside in the suit free of the bondage that Rapture has forced upon him.

But it didn't matter in the end.

For no matter what laid behind those grimy glass visor, to her Subject Delta would always be the knight in shining bronze who gave his life to free her and the girls from the purgatory of a failed utopia. And for as long as she lived Delta would always be with her, the soft whisper coursing through her veins, guiding her in this new world she had long dreamed of reaching.

"Thank you father." She leaned down and kissed the dirty glass pane. "For everything."

A scoff sounded then, mocking and sharp.

Turning, Eleanor glared at the woman in white dress standing at the edge of Sinclair's escape pod, her gaze unmoving on the rippling waves below. Sofia Lamb, the mother that had tried to mold her into an idol of self-less altruism, a messiah to the lost and damned of Rapture. Blinded and twisted by the unachievable concept of a utopian society, what she did to her and Delta transcended even the most fantastical concept of cruelty. What she failed to see in her pitiless pursue was that utopia wasn't a place, a coven or a teaching, but the inexhaustible light of the human spirit that resides in all of us. Our drive to protect, cherish and preserve those we hold dear was to Eleanor the true meaning of utopia. Father had taught her that with his selfless quest to save her, and that lesson was the only reason Sofia was still among the living this very moment.

"Disappointing." Sofia sneered, pulling a soaking pack of cigarette from her skirt pocket and gave it a quick shake, droplets of seawater sprinkling out, before throwing the now useless source of relief into the sea. "You truly are a monster."

"No." Eleanor eyes darken. "I am my father's daughter."

"At least you're honest about your lineage," Sofia didn't spare Eleanor a glance as she spoke, aloof of her daughter rising anger. "What now?"

The suddenness of the question threw Eleanor off balance, an icy bolt that struck like a hammer, shattering the afterglow of liberation and whimsy of optimism with grim realization of present reality.

"W-What?" was all Eleanor managed as Sofia snickered mockingly.

"Stupid child." Sofia turned to face her, the sheer intensity of the glare causes Eleanor to take a single involuntarily step backward. "Your action, driven by the misguided impulse of rebellion, has blinded you to the consequences. Enjoy this little soiree of victory child, might as well glean some enjoyment before you come to term with the doom that you've brought upon us all. Did you know why Ryan has chosen this location, this very specific latitude and longitude, to erect his masterpiece that was Rapture? He made sure that the surface will never disturb him, paying off the right people to make sure that no ship would sail within a hundred nautical mile of Rapture. Nobody is coming to help you and those Little Sisters."

"The lighthouse," Eleanor fought back, unsure finger pointed toward the shinning obelisk. "There has to be some sort communication device in there. I-I could rewire it so that it would send out an SOS message across all frequency. A passing ship will definitely pick up the distress call."

"Do you think they would simply help you?" Sofia continued. "Look at yourself child, you will be nothing but a monster to them, a revolting beast to be simply cast out, forgotten and destroyed. Rapture sole purpose of existence was to provide people like ourselves a safe haven against those that inhabit the surface, and you have chosen to destroy that sanctuary and charted our course toward damnation."

"I am not like you!" Eleanor screeched, chemical fire erupting in her palm. Petit gasping sounded in sharp succession behind her and Eleanor eyes went wide with regret and shame. Spinning around she saw the former Little Sisters starring at her, their childish games ceasing as they watched the unfolding argument with morbid anticipation. Powering down the Plasmid surging through her veins, Eleanor knelt down to the nearest girl, hands reaching out to rest on her tiny shoulders.

"I'm sorry that you have to see that," Eleanor gave her a weak smile. "I should have known better."

"That's okay big sister," the smiling child surprised her by leaping in for a hug, Eleanor returning the embraced with a shaky sigh. "Bad woman make you angry."

"Yes she does." Eleanor held her tight; the innocence giggling was a calming chime to her ears. Soon enough the other joined in, tiny arms wrapping themselves tightly around her lanky limbs, laughter returning as if uninterrupted. To them she was as much a hero as her father was.

Then she heard it.

A low rumbling blare reverberating across the glittering sapphire waves, far and fading, yet the sound was unmistakable.

A ship.

Leaping to her feet, Eleanor scanned the horizon for the source of their possible salvation. Eyes darting with heighten anticipation as the ship's horn blasted out more distant than before.

"Over there! Over there!" A petit voice shouted gleefully, pointing excitedly at the black shape marring the golden canvas of the dawning eastern sky. As one, the girls rushed to the edge of the escape pod facing the ship's shimmering outline, drifting lazy over the calm ocean. They waved and cheered, trying mightily to grab its attention but their little voices could only reach so far. Clasping her hand together, Eleanor willed the Plasmid into action, genetic fire materializing in the empty space between her open palms, growing from the size of a fist to that of a soccer ball. Holding the pulsing fireball in her right hand, Eleanor arched her arm back and threw the miniature sun with all her strength up into the clear sky.

It shot upward trailing fire like a comet, rising to impossible height before exploding in a magnificent sparkling conflagration, a star exploding to life, fiery serpent like tendrils drifting lazy back to the sea. The girls were mystified by the sight, even Sofia seems impressed, but Eleanor was raked with worry as she stared unblinking to the east. There was no way that the ship could miss such a display, right?

Seconds drifted into minutes and Eleanor was about to create another fireball when the blaring horn returned, louder and nearer. The girls cheered, the black silhouette growing bigger until the ship's bow broke through the simmering veil, becoming more and more discernable with each passing seconds. Eleanor felt like crying, she couldn't believe her luck as the ship finally docked beside the escape pod. The ship might have looked a little too decrepit for her liking but it didn't matter, they were saved. The captain emerged from ship's bridge and waved at them, he was a large man with scruffy thick beard, smiling warmly as he lowered a rusty iron plank on to the pod and stride over to them.

"Hello little miss." He greeted Eleanor politely, his voice low and welcoming. "Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"My name is Eleanor Lamb," she extended her hand and he shook it heartily. "I'm afraid we require your assistance captain..."

"Oh I'm so sorry Ms. Lamb, where are my manners," he bowed apologetically. "Please call me Mr. Master. I've never been that comfortable with people calling me captain anyway."

"Mr. Master…" strange name Eleanor thought to herself. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, and please call me Eleanor."

"Okay Eleanor." Mr. Master continued. "Looking to get to dry land are we?"

"Could you help us?" Eleanor didn't want to sound desperate, but the situation wasn't exactly looking bright for her and the girls.

"Of course young lady, don't worry," Mr. Master patted her shoulder reassuringly, "this isn't the first time I gave someone here a lift."

"What do you mean by that?" Eleanor head snapped toward Sofia, after all the excitement she had honestly forgotten about her mother.

Mother.

Eleanor chuckled silently at how loose the term would be used to describe Sofia Lamb.

"Hello madam." Mr. Master extended his hand. "Mr. Master at your service."

"Sofia Lamb." She said scornfully, refusing to shake his hand. "I'm still waiting for the answer to my query, Mr. Master."

"Oh yes! About that," Mr. Master retracted his hand gingerly. "Well about ten years ago, I picked up a man and a group of little girls, looking almost exactly like this lot here come to think of it, from that lighthouse over there. He said they were from some underwater city or some such. Are you from there too?"

"We are." Eleanor stated simply, not wanting to discuss anything about Rapture with someone she just met.

"Must have been a pretty bad place. The fella I picked up, I think Jack was his name, said that he needed to get the girls as far away from that place as possible. Judging by how banged up you all look, he wasn't exaggerating."

"Jack?" Eleanor knew that name from the hushed whispers of many splicers back in Rapture, "he's…somewhat of a legend from what I understand."

"I'm sure he is," Mr. Master's head then edges passed her shoulder, looking quizzically at the unmoving form of her father. "Is that fella there okay? He hasn't moved at all since I got here."

"Nothing could be done for that creature," Sofia shouldered passed Mr. Master and ascended the plank. "Leave it."

"No!" Eleanor bellowed. "I am not leaving my father!"

"He's your dad?" Mr. Master walked over to Delta, leaning in close to gander at him before reaching out his hand to touch his stilled form. "Oh dear God…is he dead?"

"Don't touch him!" Mr. Master bolted backward like a startled cat and Eleanor hands shot up to cover her mouth, shocked by the intensity of her own shout.

"I'm sorry!" Was all Eleanor could manage, hoping she didn't destroy their only chance of rescue. "It's just - he's…I'm…"

"No, no, no, I'm the one that should be apologizing," Mr. Master got to his feet and dusted himself. "That was very inappropriate of me. You must really love him."

"I do…" Eleanor voice shook, tears welling, lost on what to do with Delta. The flesh was only a fleeting vessel and her father's essence has been merged with her own, but she couldn't stand the thought of giving him a burial at sea, no, not after everything he went through to free all of them from Rapture, the idea of sending him back to the sunless depth sickened her. Delta deserved better.

"Just tell me what needs to be done Eleanor."

Eleanor gave the Mr. Master an inquisitive look, in which he replied with, from what she could discern, genuine sincerity. Why was he so eager to help? Eleanor understanding of the human mind and its mundane interaction is grossly limited due the unfortunate circumstance of her imprisonment, but even now her honed survival instinct screamed for caution. Did he want something from her?

"Why are you helping us?" she asked, ADAM dancing softly on her palms.

"That's what I do," Mr. Master put up his palm defensively, a reassuring smile grazing his feature, "I'm a kind of person that wouldn't just standby and ignore other people's plight and not help, ya know? Look, I have no idea what happened down there, but if you're going to get anywhere in the world, you need to open up and give some benefit of a doubt to strangers once in a while. I'm only here to help Eleanor, but only if you allow me."

The sparking chemical dispersed from her palms, leaving behind an ephemeral heat softly caressing her skin. Words were simple things, so much can be spoken yet the value it carried could weigh as much as a feather, drifting away at the slightest hint of a breeze. Eleanor would have to watch and see if Mr. Master's words held any substance. A charlatan or a Samaritan, for the moment she didn't care, the safety of the girls was her only concern and the ship was their only chance to get to the main land.

"Okay…" Eleanor muttered, giving Mr. Master a nod. "Can you please help me get my father on the ship?"

"Of course, you take the head and I'll take the leg." Lifting her father's torso off the ground was easy enough. The genetic condition that Eleanor had endured made her more physically fit despite her skinny frame. She watched with amusement as Mr. Master tried to lift Delta lower half off the ground, his bearded face contorted with strenuous exertion. Eleanor soon found her soft giggles joined by the unbridle laughter of the girls, she didn't know whether the shade of crimson creeping up Mr. Master face was from his herculean effort or the embarrassing struggle. With Eleanor taking point, the ascent up the ramp went relatively uneventful and in a matter of minutes Delta was laid across the deck of Mr. Master fishing ship. Eleanor was in the process of placing Delta's hands over his chest, a posture of graceful death, when Mr. Master approached them with a bundle of dirty canvas cradled in his arm.

"Got to cover up the body ya know?" he unfurled the brownish white canvas over Delta. "People might start asking question is they see a dead body, and that wouldn't be good for anybody."

"Yes, you're right." Eleanor nodded, she stood silently for a moment, finding the correct words for what she wanted to say next without sounding too…bizarre, "…I what to give him a proper burial, in a cemetery…where everyone is laid to rest."

"Well…I don't know about cemetery, I mean, I am not sure there's a coffin big enough," Mr. Master began with a snicker, but quickly went solemn after seeing the dirty look Eleanor casted his way. "In all honesty though, priests are a nosy bunch. A public cemetery could attract prying eyes and ears, and if I guess correctly, that is the last thing you want." Eleanor nodded slowly. "But I know a rather secluded place by the sea, great view too, that I think would be a perfect place for his eternal rest, if that's okay with you."

"I suppose that will be…preferable." Eleanor nodded slowly, she was quite, ironically, out of her depth when it comes to any knowledge regarding the surface. She would have to trust Mr. Master, and so far the kind bearded man haven't given her any reason to doubt the honesty of his words. Sighing softly, Eleanor walked over to the ships derelict railing, waving at the girls still huddled together on the escape pod.

"Come on girls, don't be afraid." She smiled warmly yet none of them made a move toward the plank, hesitation plain on their tiny faces despite Eleanor reassurance.

"I don't know about you Eleanor," Mr. Master materialized beside Eleanor, a toothy grin carved across his face, his hands scrunching something hidden behind his back, "but these girls look famished. And well, I might not be that much of an expert on children but I think the girls would really enjoy these."

The former Little Sisters' eyes glittered like stars once Mr. Master unveiled a fistful of candies, sparkling like multi-spectrum gold in the bright morning sun. Starring at the absurdly eccentric amount of delectable, Eleanor stomach gave a rather embarrassing growl, reminding her that she haven't had any nourishment since her escape. Like little soldiers storming an enemy wall consumed by bloodlust, or in this case sugar-lust, the girls charges up the plank, rushing at Mr. Master, their tiny hands snatching with scarily animalistic fervor. Smiles lit up their tiny little faces as they dined on the assortments of chocolates and gumdrops with endearing glee.

"Have some." Eleanor turned to Mr. Master, in his palms were the candies that survived the onslaught.

"It's quite alright really." She politely declined but rumbling stomach betrayed her true desire, red shades rising across her cheeks.

"You need some energy yourself," Mr. Master smiled. "Go on, help yourself to the survivors."

Thanking him, Eleanor browse what remained of the candies, feeling the giddy glee of wonderment she thought lost to the darkness that was Rapture, where her childhood suffered a torturous dissection by those who see it as nothing but a subject of experimentation and exploitation.

It was good to feel like a kid again.

Casting her eyes over Mr. Master's opened palm, Eleanor picked up a strange ovals shaped candy with white wrapping, simple facial features are drawn on to the surface to give it beady eyes, triangle ears, a yellow nose, three whiskers on each cheeks and a bright red bow on the right ear. She removed the wrapping, revealing the same face underneath but with a creamier, more inviting shade. Taking a bite, Eleanor beamed ecstatically as the perfect blend of creamy sweet and sour sensation washes over her palates, a smile splitting across her face as she quickly took another bite; satisfy moan escaping with every bite full.

"I guess you enjoyed it huh?" Eleanor could only nod shyly, the warm pink blossom on her cheek refusing to leaving. "Yeah, Japan have some of best and weirdest stuff on the planet, you got lucky with that one."

He stuffed the candies into his pocket and walked toward the plank, pulling it back onto the ship before heading for the bridge.

"I'll set course for the mainland," he turned back to Eleanor. "We should reach the East Coast in less than a week."

"Thank you Mr. Master." Eleanor smiled, feeling more hopeful than she have ever been.

Mr. Master nodded, "I'll be right back with more treat for you and the girls. So hang tight!"

Eleanor could only snicker as the burly captain disappeared into the bridge. Moment later the ship gave a sudden forward jerk, the girls yelping at the sudden jolt, before lurching into motion, picking up speed and parting the gentle blue surface. Eleanor held her gaze on the escape pod and the lighthouse until it became nothing but black smidgen on the horizon, savoring this short respite before solemnity and melancholy returns. Soon her eyes drifted back to Delta unmoving form and heaved a heavy sigh.

One last thing for father. 

* * *

Goodbye was such bitter thing, ashen and painful.

Mr. Master was true to his words, bringing Eleanor to a clearing a few kilometers inland from a secluded somber grey beach somewhere on the American East Coast. Beams of golden sunlight lanced through the soft swaying canopy, lighting their path to Delta's final resting place. All was green, glittering wet emerald moss blanketed the grove, a natural blanket cool to the touch and more beautiful than anything Eleanor had ever seen in her life. The books, the implanted memories of the denizen of Rapture who still clung to the fading glimpses of the world above, even the artificial habitant of Arcadia paled in comparison to the masterful hands of nature that had crafted this sanctuary free of human interference.

Eleanor felt bad for stabbing the shovel into the soft earth, to despoil such beauty with her rather selfish incursion but her father deserves this one last gift. It took sometime but Eleanor, with the help from Mr. Master, managed to excavate a grave deep and large enough to accommodate Delta. She was silent throughout the entire ordeal, no words parting between her and the captain as they lowered her father into the pit, filling it with fresh earth dug up mere hour before.

"Can I have a moment alone with my father please?" Voice shaking, Eleanor didn't turned to face Mr. Master.

"Take all the time you need." His voice was warm and understanding as he trekked back the way they came, Eleanor listening until the crunching footsteps faded to nothing.

At long last came the tears.

Pouring freely down her cheeks, the mental armor she had forged to survive Rapture finally ruptured and yielded to the accumulated grief of imprisonment and abuse. She fell to her knees and cried, loud and bestial, the memories of her father, his sacrifices, and the future that could never be were white burning knives searing her skin, each recollection more painful than the last.

Why?

Why can't he be with her?

To bask in the sun, to be by her side. After everything that they had fought and endured, why did father had to be taken from her when escape was an inevitability. Curling into a fetal ball, sobbing sharp shaky breath, Eleanor felt ADAM rushing through her veins as anguish quickly turned to anger. Bright orange flames burst into existence, engulfing her clenched fists as it rages with unrestrained ferocity, scorching the green moss into blacken obsidians. The ground rumbled beneath her, waves of telekinesis pulses reverberated across the glade, birds scattered as leaves and droplets showered down on to Eleanor shaking form.

Mother.

That woman.

This was all her fault. That beast had taken everything that had mattered to her. Only now did Eleanor realized how much she loathed Sofia Lamb, the regret of giving her that oxygen canister stroking the twisting vicious blaze on her fists, doubling its intensity. She should teleport back to the ship right now and kill her. Yes. That would be both fitting and deserving. It would be so easy too, nothing would please Eleanor more than to see Sofia face when she ripped that black beating heart from her chest, if there was even a heart there to begin with. She can also make it last. With her knowledge, implanted or otherwise, Eleanor can guarantee that mother will suffer for as long as she wants. As Eleanor descended deeper into the darkening maelstrom of her most monstrous thought a voice broke through, a soft rumbling moan that calm her turbulent nebula to a standstill.

"Fa-Father?" Eleanor bloodshot eyes snapped wide open, the sobbing caught in her throat, "Father?!"

The soft moan came again, emanating from the serene recess of her mind, rising in cool waves that engulfed the fires in her vein, dousing it to a dull ember before that too faded to calming darkness. The genetic flames withered from her fist, disappearing in sharp fizzles that left behind thin wisps of smoke. Slowly Eleanor rose to her knees and surveyed the glade, tears returning once more, not of anger but shame. The charcoal earth and burning field was her fury made manifest, terrible in its splendor. The altar of nature that had taken centuries to perfect and cultivate became the unwitting victim of her uncontrollable wrath.

"Father…" Eleanor began. "I'm so sorry. I was blinded by anger. I went against everything you have shown me. I know that evil is just a word, a construct built by us to hide the pain we've all suffered in life, but could mother truly be redeemed? She felt nothing but contempt for me and for you. Has she truly been shattered in both mind and spirit? A thousand shards of glass that cut and bled all who seek to repair it? Is she content with what she has become? Twisted and broken, driven only to remake the world in her own perverse image of unattainable perfection. What should I do father? You have taught me mercy, and by that lesson I have open the door for mother to seek redemption, already for it to be scorned. Please father, tell me…tell me what to do."

The rumbling moan replied, long and soothing, a soft breeze embracing her soul, the unbroken melody a sweet spiritual rejuvenation. Delta can't truly speak, his voice robbed by the brutal transformation inflicted upon him by the scalpels of Rapture, but to Eleanor it was all she needed.

"Thank you father." Eleanor wiped tears and grime from her face before raising shakily, the fresh scent of green helped steadied her legs as she began walking back to the ship. The path that had gleamed golden was now a shade of cold steel, the sun shrouded by the gathered grey cloud as chilling gale pierced through her Big Sister armor. Eleanor drifted silently like a ghost through purgatory, a lonely procession through a lifeless, colorless afterlife toward eventual rebirth, and she felt nothing but peace as swaying grass turned to crackling gravels, then to grainy sinking sand. Eleanor approached the rubber dingy resting on the shore, the foamy waves churning closer inland as the tide began to rise. Mr. Master leapt from his seat in the dingy and approached her, worry raked his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked, hand extended toward her, she politely decline and took her seat on the dingy. "I heard screaming and stuff, then I swear I smelled smoke…is that scorch mark on your suit? Eleanor, are you hurt?"

"I'm okay Mr. Master," Eleanor smiled warmly. "In fact, I believe I've never felt better."

"That's good to hear," Mr. Master nodded as he pushed the dingy on to the waves before jumping in to join her. "Burying someone you love is a difficult thing. Trust me, I know."

Eleanor nodded as she picked up a pair of paddles and slid it into the rowlocks on the side, Mr. Master doing the same as the both rowed back to the ship, wordless as the dingy bobbed and weaved to the rhythmic waves. Hatred was such evil thing, an affliction that consumed and destroyed both the host and its target. Vengeance beget no satisfaction, only the slow painful metamorphosis into the very accursed being that you had seek to vilified, a self-inflicted corruption brought upon by the singular moment of weakness that yielded to the bases of impulse. Eleanor vowed then never to succumb. To never become the monster that mother had denounced her to be. With Delta as her guide she will face the world, virtuous, fearless and empathic, no matter how shrouded the future might be. Sofia Lamb might have taken her childhood, her father and almost her very life, but the one thing she would claim was her humanity. 

* * *

Eleanor has always suspected that Mr. Master possess more knowledge about Rapture than he had led on. His perfect conjunction with the arrival of the escape pod was a providence too convenient for her liking, and now that his connection has been revealed, Eleanor was a tad surprised by the captain parts and position in the tragedy that was Rapture. Docking by a pier leading to a spacious house located next to an estuary of a gentle little river snaking into the cold Atlantic, the person that stood waiting for them, clad in a heavy brown coat that shielded her from the ocean gale, was none other than Brigid Tenenbaum.

"Herr Master, willkommen." Tenenbaum reached out her hand, only for Mr. Master to scoop her up in a hearty hug.

"Ah! Brigid! It's so good to see you again!" the burly captain bellowed as he swung her in his arm with effortless ease. The sight of Tenenbaum, a woman of such scientific renown, being manhandled like a doll brought giggling fit to the girls who were crossing the ramp on to the pier. Even Eleanor herself failed miserably at hiding her chuckling smirk. When he finally placed her back on the pier, the scientist usual pale complexion was shaded bright pink as she straightened her jacket and fiddled with her greying hair, making sure that it stayed in a bun.

"Thank you Herr Master for that rather embarrassing episode," Tenenbaum dusted herself off before approaching Eleanor, hand extended. "It is good to finally see you in the flesh Fraulein Lamb."

"Likewise Ms. Tenenbaum." Eleanor shook it,

"I trust that Herr Master arrived in a timely manner?"

Eleanor was taken aback then. "You were the one that contacted Mr. Master? But I thought you were still down in Rapture when we came up."

"I was already entering American water five days before you've returned to the surface. It was during that time that I asked for Herr Master's service in retrieving you and Herr Delta." A sad sigh parted Tenenbaum lips then. "I'm sorry about your father Eleanor."

"He died well." Was all Eleanor could manage, fighting down the quivers creeping into her voice. "Thank you for everything Ms. Tenenbaum."

"It is the least I could have done to save you and the little ones…" Tenenbaum voice trailed off once she spotted Sofia Lamb walking down the ramp toward her, head held high pompously as their gaze locked. They stood face to face, neither moving nor breaking the glare, Tenenbaum craning her head up at the taller Sofia. The permeating tension radiating from the two was so intense that Eleanor slowly backed away, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of the volatile situation.

"Sofia." Tenenbaum did nothing to hide her venom.

"Brigid." Sofia sounded almost mocking as she addressed the German geneticist, finding her seething anger a source of comedy. Then the slap came like a bolt of lighting, sudden and powerful, accompanied by a loud smack that shocked the world into silence. The girls gasped and Eleanor froze, hands clasped over her mouth as she watched the event unfold with trepidation, and admittedly a little hint of satisfaction of seeing mother getting what was coming. Despite her rather frail and aging appearance, Tenenbaum packed quite a wallop, the slap sending Sofia crashing to the wooden pier, her glass flying off her face. Massaging the burning red blemish on her cheek, Sofia reached for her fallen spectacle, gave the lenses a few good wipes before rising calmly, Tenenbaum visibly shook as soft laughter emanated from the blonde.

"Good to see you too." Sofia scoffed, wiping blood from her split lips.

"The feeling is far from mutual," Tenenbaum slowly calmed, her breathing became even and timed before turning to Mr. Master. "Herr Master, please take the children inside."

"Right away mam, follow me everyone!" The captain herded the girls down the pier, more than eager to get away from the entire ordeal. Eleanor thought about following him, but decided to remain and witness Brigid Tenenbaum and Sofia Lamb less than happy reunion.

"How did you escape?" Tenenbaum demanded, hand clenching into a fist when Sofia remained silent. "When I was returning to the surface, the last transmission I received from Rapture was how Herr Delta was freed from his confinement by Eleanor. I thought retribution was finally at hand."

"I saved her." Eleanor interjected. "When the bombs went off and Sinclair's escape pod shot up to the surface, mother was already inside. She was drowning…and I can't just let her die, so I gave her an oxygen tank." She went stilled for a moment, willing herself with great effort to continue. "Before he died, father taught me that mercy was a victory in itself. And by those words, I am content that my first action free from Rapture wouldn't be one of cruelty, but of kindness."

"Shame that she doesn't take after me one bit." Sofia chastised, Eleanor flinching at the words.

"And that is the greatest blessing of all," Tenenbaum retaliated on her behalf and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "With this one simple act, your daughter has proven herself to be more virtuous than either of us." Her eyes became remorseful then. "Forgive me my dear Eleanor, but I must admit that in your position…I do not think that I can find it in my heart to forgive your mother after everything she has done."

"I understand Dr. Tenenbaum." Eleanor nodded, her smile soft and understanding.

"Please call me Brigid dear, and blessed your kind heart." Tenenbaum was about to continued when a shrilled scream sounded from the two stories villa beyond, most unmistakably that of Mr. Master, followed by cheerful shout of the girls, then a very familiar reverberating whale like groan that made Eleanor looked up in surprise. A Big Daddy? Here?

"Oh dear, I believe Herr Master had unfortunately met Charles," Tenenbaum snickered lightly, pulling her coat tighter against the chilly gust. "Come Eleanor, I think it's time we join them. And I believe we need a replacement for your current attire too, something that reminds us less of Rapture."

"I agree." Eleanor looked down at her Big Sister armor, something more comfortable and less demented looking would be very nice indeed.

"Coming Sofia?" Tenenbaum called to the blonde psychiatrist without looking back as she walked toward the shore. Eleanor cast a quick glance at her mother before joining the doctor, Sofia following a moment later, the sound of tapping of stiletto echoing behind her. 

* * *

After almost a week of planning, mostly involving Mr. Master setting the quickest nautical route and Tenenbaum making quick phone call to her contacts, ashtray quickly overflowing with burnout cigarette butts, the plan to have the kidnaped former Little Sisters returned to their families was finalized. Tenenbaum had suggested that Eleanor stayed behind with the Big Daddy, who so happens to be Charles Milton Porter, the creator of the artificial intelligence that ran Rapture, and look after her family while she was gone. But Eleanor had argued that since it was her and Subject Delta that initiated the exodus from Rapture, it is only fitting that she saw it through to the end. Tenenbaum concurred, not knowing that Eleanor true reason for not being able to stay was because of how Subject Sigma had reminded her too much of father. The wound was too fresh and deep to be reopened so soon.

Discarding her Big Sister armor, Eleanor was now sporting a loose blue jean held up by an old brown belt, a black long sleeved turtle neck that snuggle softly against her skin and a pair of simple white sneakers, all graciously given to her by Tenenbaum.

The journey was a solemn affair, but fulfilling in its completion. To see the girls finally returned to their families, the nightmare that has haunted and ravaged their lives coming to an end, father, mother and daughter reuniting in a teary embrace that heralded the beginning of a brighter chapter in their lives. One by one, Eleanor watched as they waved and hugged each other goodbye, smiling as if the horror of Rapture was nothing but a bad dream they had just awoken from. Eleanor envied their incorruptible spirit, a mind so pure and innocent unassailable by the corruption that other would have easily succumbed to.

In a span of a couple of days the twelve little girls were, anonymously, returned to their respective families. And during that time, Brigid Tenenbaum and Sofia Lamb clashed frequently, and if it wasn't for Mr. Master timely intervention, would have escalated violently. Deemed too dangerous to be left unattended, Tenenbaum had forced Sofia to come with them, stating that she could at least keep an eye on her. A correct decision all things considered, but the good doctor had not taken into account how talkatively persuasive the psychiatrist could be. Just as Eleanor suspect, mother have not given up on her dream of creating the ideal utopia society, and had ceaseless attempt to convert Tenenbaum to agree with her twisted altruistic view of the world. As brilliant as the doctor was in her field of expertise, the words of Sofia Lamb were like burrowing tendrils that assaulted the mind with the precision of a surgeon knife, cutting deep into every weakness in a person's psyche, breaking down walls of guarded conscious one little piece at a time, finding the scar of doubt before prying it open to burrow inside and lacerate.

"Shut up!" Tenenbaum screamed as she shouldered pass Sofia, descending the slick wooden stairs down toward the quieter recess within the ship's bowel.

"Your denial is astoundingly pathetic to say the least Brigid." Sofia called after her before drawing a cigarette from its pack, placed it in her mouth and lit it.

"But they always come around eventually," Sofia exhaled a long, satisfying puff of smoke. "They always do."

Eleanor could only watch and despaired, seeing truly now that mother had learned nothing from the downfall of Rapture. She has forsaken the chance to start anew, turning back toward the dark unsalvageable goal that has already sunken well beyond improbability. Mind swirling, Eleanor could only shiver at the thought of what length Sofia was willing to go to resurrect the monster that was Rapture, here on the unsuspecting world. She had escaped Rapture, but its shackles still clung to her, unbent and unbroken. Sighing, Eleanor spared her mother a sad gaze before following Tenenbaum down into the ship cargo hold.

It was dank and dark, an environment all too familiar to her, but the constant salty scent of the ocean was a refreshing reminder that she now dwell above the waves not beneath it. The area was sparse, only a few medium size crates of woods and metal bearing strange stylized logo of varying design dotted the floor at random interval. Tenenbaum was seated on one such metallic box, inhaling a long drag before puffing a large cloud of smoke that hung heavy in the air. Approaching her, Eleanor caught a glimpse of a logo still visible under the rust and grime now marring the box. A red and white octagonal symbol with the word 'Umbrella Corp.' embedded beneath, the letter faded to the point of being almost unreadable.

Umbrella huh? A strange and simple name for a company, yet Eleanor doubted that umbrella was the only thing they manufacture, a simple tool like that didn't need a metal crate for transportation after all. Shifting her focus back to Tenenbaum, Eleanor coughed softly to announce her coming, not wanting to startle the preoccupied geneticist.

"Oh, Eleanor." Tenenbaum turned to regard her before taking one last drag and flicked the burnout cigarette away. "Forgive me. I tried my best to quit for the little ones sake. But I guess you can never be free of some vice."

"I don't mind." Eleanor smiled. "I just wanted to check if you were okay."

"I have endured worst." Tenenbaum rose from the crate, casting warily glances over Eleanor shoulders before gesturing toward a small storage room tucked in the far corner of the ship's interior. "Come with me please, I have something I need to discuss with you personally."

"Okay…" The urgency in her voice surprised Eleanor as she gingerly followed Tenenbaum toward the rust stained door; the doctor expression was unreadable. Pulling on the derelict handle, the hinges shrieking in protest, Tenenbaum held the door open for her.

"After you please." Tenenbaum ushered toward the cramp rectangular storage room lit by a single flickering bulb pulsing dying yellow, the flanking shelves increasing the sense of creeping claustrophobia. Eleanor shuddered, the darkness was tangibly oppressive and dread gnawed at her. What could Tenenbaum want with her that requires such secrecy? Was a revelation about to dawn, or was the dagger finally revealing itself. Taking carefully steps inside, Eleanor eyed Tenenbaum suspiciously as she stride to the center of the room and stood under the fading light bulb, the doctor slammed the door shut with a heavy bang, causing the both of them to cringe.

"Mein Gott! Sorry about that," Tenenbaum jolted before turning to regard Eleanor, and after seeing her stiffen stance gave a soft reassuring smile. "Do not worry Eleanor, the last thing I want is for something bad to happen to you."

"Then why all the secrecy?" Eleanor folded her arms and leaned on a shelf.

"A bad habit from Rapture I supposed, I keep expecting someone to be listening on everything a say," Tenenbaum chuckled dryly. "Privacy was never a luxury for me."

"The same goes for me," the image of her glass prison in Persephone flashes before her eyes. "So what did you want to talk about?"

The warmth in her eyes disappeared to be replaced by a cold, steely fortitude, her back straightening to tower over Eleanor, the posture she always assumed when dealing with an important matter.

"It is about your mother…" She began.

"Go on." Eleanor eyed the doctor guardedly. "What about her?"

"I think you and I both agree that she is still very committed to her ideal," Tenenbaum continued. "It is quite an alarming development, and I can't help but fear for the little ones. But more importantly I fear for you dear Eleanor, since you seems to be the most vital part in Sofia's…teaching, so to speak."

"She's only one person, I think I can handle her." Eleanor tried to sound confident, but Tenenbaum was less than impressed.

"I think we both agree how untruthful you are being," Tenenbaum pressed on. "As much as it pains me to admit it, Sofia was right about one thing. Given enough time, all will come to agree with her. Manipulation is her most honed weapon after all."

"There is nothing mother can say that would even make me consider siding with her," Eleanor declared, the aggressive tone not lost on Tenenbaum who shot her a surprised look. "…sorry."

"I would never make such assertion my dear," Tenenbaum reassured her. "But there are many other who would be easier swayed, disgustingly easy if I may say so myself."

"Where are you going with this?" Eleanor demanded, Tenenbaum unwillingness to get to the point was quickly becoming irksome.

"Simply put my dear, your mother is too dangerous to be let loose on the world at large."

Eleanor breath was caught in her throat, the directness of the statement was so stern and sure that she felt herself reeling physically. Staring at the poised geneticist, no trace of doubt and insecurity in her stance, she had hoped childishly that the good doctor was setting up for a knockout punch line and they were both going to have a nice long laugh. Her uncompromising gaze shattered any fleeting possibility of such absurd likelihood.

"Are you suggesting …?" Eleanor swallowed the lump in her throat, finding it suddenly difficult to stay upright as the world spiral and contorted, Tenenbaum's word striking like a sledgehammer. "That we kill mother?"

"What? Mein Gott no!" Tenenbaum was startled, shock plain on her face, hands waving off the suggestion with blurry gusto. "Oh my, I'm sorry if I gave you that idea."

"When you grew up in a place like Rapture, you always assumed the worst." Eleanor leaned heavily against one of shelves, letting out a long breathe she didn't know she was holding. Relief was fleeting however.

"Then what are you suggesting?" Eleanor steadied herself. "Keep her locked up in an attic somewhere?"

"For a lack of better term, yes, she needs to be contained," Tenenbaum nodded. "Somewhere where her rhetoric will be rendered powerless, where her words will be discarded and forgotten."

"You already know where you want her to go, don't you?" Eleanor might only just blossom into adulthood, but she wasn't a fool. Tenenbaum had obviously planned this for some time now and was waiting for the right moment to tell her.

"I have contacted a trusted colleague that would see her transferred to a more secure environment."

"Where?"

"A mental asylum in Massachusetts." Eleanor chuckled bitterly. Grimly poetic that a renowned psychologist like her mother would end up occupying the role of those she had deceived and exploited back in Rapture. It might seem a deserving punishment, but it did felt inhumanely cruel. To spend the rest of your life in limbo, left forgotten as mind and body slowly rotted to dust until nothing but hollowed husk remained. The people in the Far East would call it karma, but Eleanor felt no joy in this execution of justice.

"A very cold blooded solution," Eleanor voice was low, eyes shying away from Tenenbaum. "Is there no other way?"

"I wished there was," there was sadness in Tenenbaum voice. "I truly do."

"She'll be locked away for the rest of life." Eleanor uttered emotionlessly, no sadness, no joy.

"But alive."

"How can you be sure that the asylum can even contain her? She turned an entire prison into her own congregation, remember?"

"My friend is a psychologist of an equal caliber to Sofia," Tenenbaum seemed to swell with pride, this friend must truly mean a lot to her. "He's been practicing psychology for over fifty years now, some of the case he had worked on almost equaling Rapture in its depravity. I believe he can handle Sofia."

Eleanor didn't moved, her breath slowed as quiet introspection blurred the world into a formless mass. She called for her father but he remained silent in the black void of her mind. Shaking her head, Eleanor began pacing around the room. What was she to do? Condemning mother to an asylum wasn't mercy, and everyone deserved even a tiny sliver of it. Even someone like her. But the prospect of unleashing her on the unsuspecting world was far more frightening. Eleanor needed to do the right thing, no matter how cruel. Let's just hope she possessed the resolves and perseverance to see this through.

"Eleanor? Eleanor?" She could feel Tenenbaum warm hands pulling her back to the dim, wet room. Blinking a few times, Eleanor vision adjusted to the fading light and saw the doctor starring at her, concern pronounced on her face.

"Look…" Tenenbaum began, "I won't do this without your consent, and it is clear how you feel about the entire arrangement." She sighed heavily but still managed to smile. "I am sorry to have burdened you with this Eleanor, I think it is only correct that a better alternative be made."

"I haven't given you my answer yet," Eleanor hand latched onto Tenenbaum arm, the look of pure harden determination startling the doctor. "…do it."

"Are you sure?" Tenenbaum stared at her with matching intensity, determining whether the zeal burning in her eyes was a feint. "There will be no undoing this if you agree."

"Yes." It took Eleanor every resolve she could mustered to utter that single syllable, her grip on Tenenbaum shook violently, her legs threatened to crumble beneath her. In one quick movement, Tenenbaum pulled Eleanor into a tight embrace, slowly stroking her hair, the trembling gradually soothed by the comfort and warmth radiating from the doctor.

"Shhh, shhh, calm down," Tenenbaum spoke softly. "I'm sorry that you'll have to go through this Eleanor, this is something no child should bear."

"I'll be fine." Eleanor pulled away from the embrace, the salty air steadied her bearing. "Let's just get this done."

"Okay then." Tenenbaum turned around and grabbed the door's hinge, pulling it wide open before stepping out. "I will inform Mr. Master of our next coordinate."

Eleanor followed her up to the deck, the cold Atlantic gale and refreshing whiff of the ocean calming her somewhat. But it only took the sight of her mother for the gutting anxiety to return. Eleanor turned away, nausea assailed her as she leaned on the ship railing, bile and food pushing up her throat. Willing down the powerful sickness, Eleanor gazed up to the stark gray sky and prayed for a quick arrival. 

* * *

"Where are we?" Sofia inquired as her, Tenenbaum and Eleanor stepped onto a crumbling pier that led to a derelict abandoned wharf, rotting skeletal remains of warehouses rose like macabre monument, a sinister reminder of the vaulted past and the eventual future of decay. Stuttering light shone from the few functioning lampposts, fighting a losing battle against the encroaching darkness. Even in her troubled state of mind Eleanor could feel that there was something eerily unnatural about this place. Tenenbaum truly knows how to set the stage, she mused.

It has been an agonizing six hours since the geneticist revealed her plan to subdue Sofia, during which time Eleanor did everything she could to avoid Sofia, having lacked the courage to face mother after condemning her to a mental asylum. Tenenbaum however betrayed no emotion as Sofia took careful step toward the wharf, pausing suddenly within the spasming boundary of the florescent neon light, turning with careful grace to face them, her visage unreadable.

Then came the smile.

Knowing yet mocking, the flashing light adding a demonic dimension to the wicked grin splitting across her face, teeth barring in an unearthly devilish snarl. Eleanor found herself scooting closer to Tenenbaum, ice shot through her veins and it wasn't the Winter Blast plasmid. Even the doctor herself seems unnerved, stepping in between Eleanor and Sofia, despite the fact that if mother did attempted anything physical, she would be the one to stop her.

Screeching tires sounded in the distance, followed by the unmistakable rumbling of fossil fuel engine. Bright headlamps pierced the tomb that was the harbor as three vehicles traversed what remained of the cobbled road. Stopping at the clearing where the pier ended.

So these were automobiles, the optimal mode of transportation here on land. Eleanor would have loved to appreciate these machines more if the circumstance was less dire and more welcoming.

The door swung open and a cane stabbed onto the dusty earth, it shook slightly as a man in a brown long coat pushed himself to an upright position, hand curled around the grey orb handle. He was old but still carried himself smartly, standing proud and erected, an air of regality about him. Even with the crease and wrinkle crisscrossing his face, the man was no doubt a looker. His short hair was brownish gold with a few stray silvers, his eyes were piercing grey, hard but welcoming. Behind him came three orderly dressed in pristine white medical uniform, fanning out to stand behind the old man, jittery and warily of their surroundings. Eleanor could've swore she saw one of them clutching a crucifix and mouthing prayers. What was this place?

"Ms. Sofia Lamb?" His voice was low and melodic. "I am Dr. Wingate Peaslee, head of the Miskatonic Mental Institute."

Sofia chuckled as she regarded the man, head shaking condescendingly.

"I'm afraid you need to come with us." He said, forefinger tapping the orb of his cane in patient rhythms.

"Brigid, Brigid, Brigid," Sofia smirk venomously, Eleanor could feel Tenenbaum tensing. "Et tu, Brute?"

"Don't flatter yourself Sofia," Tenenbaum shot back. "We were never friends."

Sofia's eyes fell on Eleanor next, and in that moment she was the frail little girl back in Persephone all over again, fidgeting nervously under mother patronizing glare.

"You are full of surprises aren't you Eleanor?" She turned away, not daring to look at her. "Even now you continue to impress me." It wasn't a compliment and Eleanor knew it. "At least I can take solace, knowing that in the end, we are still mother and daughter, more alike beyond that of coded genetic. We marked what we want in the world and take it, no action too severe no moral too restricting. I am so proud of you."

"Get her out of here now!" Eleanor barely heard Tenenbaum scream, tears flooded her vision and broken sob parted her trembling lips, how can simple words hurt so much?

"Don't bother yourself." Through watery eyes she could see Sofia walking toward the approaching men as they took hold of her arms and, less than gently, escorted her to a waiting car. The door slamming shut with more than necessary urgency. Eleanor would have dropped to her knee if it wasn't for Tenenbaum anchoring grip that kept her steadied.

"Don't listened to her Eleanor, never listen to anything she says." Tenenbaum hugged her tightly, and sure enough the sobbing subsided, but the wound still bled. Eleanor wiped her eyes just in time to see Dr. Peaslee approached them, casting concerned glance at her.

"Will she be alright?" He asked.

"Yes she will." Tenenbaum gave Eleanor a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before letting her go. "Thank you Wingate, I know this isn't per regulation. I hope I didn't get you into trouble because of this."

"It's absolutely fine Brigid."

"Dr. Peaslee?" Eleanor voice was barely a whisper.

"How can I be of service young lady?"

"Can you please take good care of my mother?"

Dr. Peaslee gave Tenenbaum a look of surprise before turning back to her.

"You have my word," he reached out his hand, Eleanor shook it weakly. "Now, if you will excuse me, I must be going. And Brigid? Next time, can you please choose a more cheerily place for our rendezvous."

"Scared of the dark in your old age doctor?" Tenenbaum quipped.

"It is not the dark, but rather what dwell within it dear Brigid," Dr. Peaslee regarded her coldly, striding with a slight limp to stand beside his car. "Innsmouth harbors quite a reputation regarding things that go bump in the night."

He slid into his seat and slammed the door shut. Engines revved to life and tires screamed, kicking up loose pebbles before the cars headed back the way they came.

"Good bye mother." Eleanor uttered simply, head hung low as Brigid arms wrapped around her shoulder, guiding her back to Mr. Master's ship.

"Slowly now dear." Tenenbaum was beside her, the doctor presences barely able to dispelling the frigid cold, but it was enough for Eleanor. Through the haze of drying tears and clawing guilt she knew that she did the right thing. Eleanor felt almost weightless once she lowered herself on to the deck of Mr. Master's ship, eyes glossing over the black starless night. The numbness from the experience was fading and, expecting more pain, Eleanor was surprised to find an odd sort of warmth caressing her. Fresh tears cascaded down her eyes but no longer did she sobbed. She was smiling. She felt almost bad, but there it was, a singular truth making itself known to her like a rising sun:

She was free. 

* * *

Dawn was breaking over the cloudless eastern horizon when Eleanor ascended the ramp to Mr. Master's ship, the fresh scent of morning was cool and sweet. A large duffle bag slung over her shoulder, Eleanor leap on to the ship and dropped the heavy luggage, almost weightless to her, on the deck. Stretching her back, she spun around and said her farewell to Tenenbaum, Subject Sigma and her three adopted daughters. Former Little Sisters well within their teenage years like her.

"Thank you for everything Brigid!" Eleanor waved healthily as the ship lurched into motion, "Thank you!"

"Remember you are always welcome here!" Tenenbaum responded, waving in unison with her daughters who shouted "good bye!" and "see you again!" Subject Sigma on the other hand just stood there, still as a log, musty visor following the ship movement. Eleanor waved until their silhouettes faded into the distance, her gaze lingering for a moment. Tenenbaum had invited her to stay but Eleanor declined the offer, feeling that glowing adventurous impulse to discover this new world on her own. Tenenbaum respected her wishes and as a parting gift, gave her comprehensive documents that served as her identity paper in case some people got nosy, and a considerable sum of money to start a new life. The woman truly was a saint, having more than redeemed herself for what has transpired in Rapture. Striding over to the bridge, Eleanor knocked on the iron door before entering, finding Mr. Master dutifully at the helm, flashing her a toothy grin. The good captain, boundless in his generosity, has also found her a place to settle down, a quiet cottage on the edge of a quaint little town call Mercy Fall.

"Thank you Mr. Master." She stood next to him and, not really knowing want to do, gave him a tap on his shoulder.

"No problem at all Eleanor, just happy to help," The captain bellowed good naturedly. "Are you nervous?"

"A little bit, but in a good way."

"That's the spirit!" He smiled, slapping his helm playfully, "as an old friend once told me: Home is behind, the world ahead."

Eleanor nodded.

Yes.

The world was truly ahead.


	4. Operation: Bring Elizabeth Back to Life

"Nice ending." Nikki remarked with an impressed nod of the head. "But damned! Tenenbaum was one stone cold bitch wasn't she? One minute she was like, 've haff to save ze little ones!' then the next she's like, 'welcome to Arkham! Please enjoy your stay, now rot for all eternity!'"

"Can't really blame Eleanor for going along with Tenenbaum solution though," Yuki added. "I guess that's the only way to truly be rid of Sofia without actually compromising her own morality. Keep them alive by any means necessary, but whatever you do, don't kill'em. Batman logic."

"Excuse me, but am I the only one who sees this as a disaster waiting to happen?" Erik held up his hand. "It's more than a hundred percent likely that Sofia's going to escape with a vengeance."

"I refuse to believe that it's going to be that cliché." Yuki retorted.

The room was on the verge of another debate when a loud, slow clapping stopped them. All eyes turned to Damien, back slump against his chair with plain annoyance etched across his face, slowly and methodically slamming his open palm together, a parody of an applause.

"Now that we got Eleanor happy ending out of the way, I only have one question." He began innocently enough before rising, adjusted his t-shirt as one would a suit and tie, then inhale deeply and bellowed: "WHERE THE FUCK IS ELIZABETH!"

"Yeah! I want to hear about Elizabeth and how she fit into all this." Henry added with more decorum, "I mean nothing against Eleanor, but I think everybody want hear more about Elizabeth."

"Shouldn't we be kinda worried about the whole Innsmouth, Miskatonic thing though?" Lita interrupted, turning to regard the Master with urgent inquisitiveness, "I mean, as if Rapture and Columbia wasn't bad enough already."

"Don't worry about it," the Master waved her off nonchalantly. "They're merely reflection, absent the eldritch bearing of the original." He cleared his throat then, getting the attention of the Eight before continuing. "Now who wants to hear about Elizabeth?"

"About goddamn time, holy shit!" Damien clasped his hand in mocking praying gesture before sitting down, the other just nodded enthusiastically.

"Now let me warn, the story is quite gut wrenching for those who like Elizabeth." The boys nodded with steely resolves, Laura just shrugged and the other girls just nodded.

"Good. So our story beings as Burial at Sea part 2 was coming to an end…"

* * *

 _ **Flashback approved by the Ordo Cronus, beginning transmission.**_

"What is this? It's just a buncha gibberish!" Atlas, aka Frank Fontaine, fumed as he looked at the coded message, unable to make sense of the chaotic jumbles of chemical symbols. Seething, he reached his free hand down and grabbed a handful of Elizabeth's hair, yanking her head upward to face the piece of paper. She whimpered weakly in protest, barely clinging to life as her unfocused eyes fell on the Ace in the Hole.

"Hey!" Atlas shook her roughly, "what does this say, you little whore!"

"It says…" Elizabeth coughed, breathless as she used what remained of her strength to speak, "would you kindly…"

Atlas smirked and dropped her, satisfied that he got what he wanted before turning to his men:

"We've got the activation phrase. Now all we got to do is get that genetic freak of nature on an airplane, and Rapture's ours. Yeeargh!"

Hidden in the shadow, the Master didn't look away when the wrench came down on Elizabeth, the impact sending her head bouncing off the hard steel floor. This was nothing new to him sadly. In his long existence, he has seen much more grotesque atrocity committed, unspeakable in malice and apocalyptic in scale. But it didn't mean that he was at peace with such a sight, and this one unfolding before him was especially sickening.

"Sally…Sally…" She was alive? The Master eyes went wide as he watched Elizabeth crawled weakly toward the Little Sister Sally, still within the grip of one of Atlas's thugs. The grinning villain gave her a mocking sneer before waving away his henchmen, they obeyed without a word like soulless automaton, releasing Sally who quickly rushes to Elizabeth side. Damn, this wasn't in the game.

"Still got some fight left in ya, eh love?" Atlas loomed over her, the bloody wrench twirling in his hand.

"No! Bad man! Bad man! Go away!" Sally leapt to her feet and slammed her tiny fist at Atlas leg. He snarled and struck the girl hard with a savage back hand, the Little Sister gave a painful yelp as she flew across the room, sobbing loudly.

"Sally!" Elizabeth cry was cut short when a kick slammed into her ribs, she grunted breathlessly as the kick came again, and again, causing her to curl into a fetal ball. The assault went on for almost a minute before Atlas stopped, panting heavily.

"Enjoy your time with the little monster." He smirked before giving Elizabeth on last kick across her face. Sprawled on her back, fresh blood adorning her battered mouth, Elizabeth convulsed violently as Atlas walked away, pleased with his work. It took every ounce of control for the Master no to leapt at the smiling bastard and rip his guts out, smashed that smirking face into unrecognizable pulp, shoved a chainsword down his throat, or any other means of painful execution. But the canon must be preserved. So he stood there powerless, knowing that his intervention would unleash a cataclysmic butterfly effect on the cosmoses. Thus he watched the girl suffered.

Fucking canon.

Death was here now. He could feel it as Elizabeth propped herself onto the glass wall, her gaze distance and lost, the many doors flashing right before her eyes one last time. Sally was up on her feet now, taking shaky steps toward her savior, the headless doll hugged tight at her chest.

 _"_ _Quand il me prend dans ses bras,_ _Il me parle tout bas."_

Sally began singing as she scooted closer to the dying Elizabeth.

 _"_ _Je vois la vie en rose, Il me dit des mots d'amour, Des mots de tous les jours,"_

Elizabeth reached out, lost within her vision, the happy conclusion to her sacrifice. Sally looked guarded for a moment before wrapping her tiny fingers around Elizabeth's hand, guiding it to rest upon her cheek as she sang the final verse.

 _"_ _Et ca me fait quelque chose."_

Vision receded as reality returned, Elizabeth eyes drifted to focus on Sally, a weaken smile gracing her battered face.

Then she was gone.

Her eyes dilated and froze. One last gasp of air parted her crimson lips, slender form went limp, blood flowed down her face where the wrench had fatally struck. The head of the doll that was in her grasp rolled away to rest at Sally's feet.

And so passed Elizabeth DeWitt, the tragedienne of Bioshock Infinite. Flashing canvas of the dying Rapture painted a morbid backdrop for her silent grave, the curtain falling on her story and the credit rolled.

That should have be the end of it.

The Master knew that he needed to walk away, the canon has been preserved and all was right with the world.

Yet he remained, conflicted on how to proceed from this point.

The universe was never fair, the casualties it has claim was endless, some justified, most unjustly so. Elizabeth's story was over, but does this have to be the end? Power were such burdensome things, you spent more time fretting whether or not to use the damn thing than actually using it. He can give her a second chance, to truly live and be free of this cycle of death and suffering. She had more than earned it. Beside this won't be the first time he intervened and brought people back to life. Poor girl didn't deserve to endure so much hardship only to find eternal darkness as her reward.

Making up his mind, the Master was about to step out from his place in the shadow when Sally's shrill cry cut through the silent. Heavy footsteps sounded and stepping into the weak sea green light was one of Atlas's henchmen, Lonnie, the bastard that overdosed Elizabeth with the truth serum, sending her into a two week coma. He didn't show up in any of the other Bioshock games if the Master recalled correctly. Bad luck for him.

"Come here you little shit." He stalked closer to Sally, one hand reaching maliciously at the Little Sister, a gleaming bowie knife in the other.

"Go away! Help!" Sally screeched, tripping on her own foot to land roughly on her behind and backpedalling away from the grinning Lonnie, "Mr. Bubble!"

"There's no Big Daddy around to save you. Come here!" His outstretched hand lashed like a snake at Sally, grabbing a fistful of blond hair before she could even move. Sally screamed, kicking feebly as Lonnie pinned her squirming form to the ground, pressing his knee onto her neck.

"Sweet, sweet ADAM." Lonnie licked his lips, knife rising above his head, "stop moving you little shit, this would be a lot easier if you would just stay still!"

The knife never came down. In a blink the Master was upon Lonnie, lifting him off his feet by the neck and slamming him into the glass wall.

"What the fuck!?" Lonnie croaked, stabbing the bowie knife into the Master's arm repeatedly until the blade snapped in half, the bloodless shard flying into the distant darkness. Mithril mail, light as feather but hard as dragon scales. There was no way in hell some shitty made American knife was going to make a dent in it. Bladeless hilt clattering to the ground, Lonnie desperately tried to pry the grip, the Master paid him no mind as he turned toward Sally. The Little Sister was rubbing her neck and coughing for air when their eyes met, she slowly reaches for her doll and its head before backing away fearfully.

"Run child." The Master told her. "You don't want to see this."

She nodded then cast a mean look at Lonnie.

"You're in big trouble now!" She declared and blew him a raspberry before disappearing into one of the many cracks snaking across crumbling wall. The Master waited until the soft pattering of her bare feet faded away, only after when he was sure that Sally was no longer in the vicinity that he returned his attention to Lonnie, still defiant despite the situation.

"Atlas is going to get you!" He spat through gritted teeth.

"He won't." The Master stated calmly. "But you won't live to is that failure either."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Lonnie pressed on undeterred.

"Nobody important." The Master then reached into his thick leather coat and withdrew a large syringe filled to the brim with translucent orange liquid, waving it in front of Lonnie. "You like to play with needle right?"

"What are you doing?" There was a panic edge to his voice now. "What is that? Get it away from me!"

"Let me sure you what this does." Slowly, the Master pressed the needle into Lonnie's neck, the man howled in pain as he felt every inch of sharp iron breaking through skin and muscles, "Jonathan Crane send his regards."

The infamous fear serum of the Scarecrow was truly a thing of horrific beauty. Unless you're Batman, a single drop of this toxin can irreversibly fray your mind beyond any hope of repair. And to administer the wrong dosage could result in the subject dying a loud, painful death as fear overloaded his cerebrum. This is exactly what the Master did to this unfortunate NPC of Bioshock, the man struggled pitifully as every last drop of the deadly concoction was emptied into his vein. Throwing the man across the floor as if he was weightless, the Master waited for the serum to take effect. The scream was instantaneous, Lonnie broken shriek soon filled the corridor, twisted echoing cacophony reverberating like a mad choir of contorted dementia.

"NO! GO AWAY! GET AWAY! NO!" The Master ignored the man maddened plea and was turning back to Elizabeth when bright orange flair erupted behind him, gust of heat rolling over his shoulders. Snapping his head backward he saw Lonnie engulfed in fire, the goon's attire and skin having disintegrated to leave behind a charred skeletal form, writhing and a flailing like a string-less puppet trying to find its own footing. Stumbling too close for comfort, the Master leapt at him and landed a powerful diving sidekick squarely on his burnt chest, the massive force of the impact sending what remained of Lonnie skidding across the dark corridor, briefly lighted by his fiery passing, before rolling to a stop, the body stilling in blazing heap.

Okay, what the hell just happened?

The Master took a moment to compose himself before edging carefully toward Lonnie's remains. The stench was a foul smoky rot, liquefied fleshes dripping from charcoal bony frame to pool and boiled on the heated floor. A quick nudge with his feet caused the bones to collapse into a heap of soot, good, at least he was sure it wasn't going to start reanimating.

It was only Scarecrow fear juice.

The Master scratched his hair, face scrunched up in confusion. How the hell did he caught fire? He saw Laura and Erik pump a gallon of this stuff into some poor sod once and the worst that happened was that his eyes popped from its sockets. A volatile chemical reaction with the ADAM perhaps? At this point he didn't care, satisfying as killing Lonnie was the Master doubt that the piercing shriek would go unheard for long.

Turning back to Elizabeth, he knelt beside her unmoving form and delicately placed his open palm over her bloody face, slowly stroking her eyelid shut with one gentle downward swipe. The Master then place his hand on the back of her skull, meticulously guiding her head away from the glass wall, before angling her slowly to rest on his right bicep. He reached his left arm under her knees and in one swift motion lifted her off the ground. A portal materialize behind him, silent and unassuming, a simple square elevator like entrance with piercing white light shining through, an odd contrast to the dim and doom of Rapture. Being a powerful entity that control space and time, the Master can ripped a passage through any realm in the collective cosmos with just a simple wave of a hand. But despite his power to perceive and manipulate with those realities directly, he can't, like Elizabeth, see all of its possibility. Thus for every intervention he took, he was left to the mortal whim of luck, unknowing of the consequence of his action. It was probably nature's way of making sure he wasn't too powerful. A good thing too, when things become too easy it was never fun.

Elizabeth in his arm, the Master was about to step into the light when something caught his attention, pulsing dull grey at the edge of his vision. Turning around, the Master's brow rose in surprise as he beheld…Tears? But not the scar like laceration seen in the game but a strange pulsing mass of swirling wisps orbiting a smoky formless center. Taking careful stride toward it, Elizabeth still draped over his arms, the Master knelt to get a better look. The strange basketball size orb slowly gravitated toward him as he reached for it, faint voices emanated from the core, distorted amalgam of indiscernible noises. Static images flickering and flashes with unrecognizable pattern or form, shapes tried to take form only to disperse back into immaterial. Carefully placing his hand under the orb, the Master lifted it off the ground, finding it weighing no more than a balloon. He didn't know what this thing was, but it looked important enough to warrant his attention, so it was a no brainer that it was coming with him. There was no way he was leaving it in Rapture, that's for damned sure.

"Lonnie? Lonnie boyo, where the fek are ya?" Right on freaking schedule. "You done with the little monster yet?"

Sorry Atlas, no more delays. Hefting Elizabeth effortlessly up on his arms, the orb clinging by the tip of his extended forefinger, the Master stepped through the bright portal the moment Atlas made his gruesome discovery, the passage between realities disappearing from Rapture without a trace.

The Master now stood inside what could only be describe as a large, picturesque hospital room, the creamy furniture and glaring white fluorescent light a stark contrast to the damp and dark that was Rapture mere seconds before.

The place was designed by him to have a homey feel to it. All furniture have a good contrasting color of ceramic white and rich brown wood, radiating a welcoming and calm atmosphere, perfect for a healing environment. Painting of various significant happenstances in the known cosmoses, framed in gilded gold, decorated the four walls at regular interval. Being a pocket dimension that existed in the dark matters between realms, the place didn't actually have windows or doors, so the paintings would serve as a nice break in monotony.

A nice and relaxing place, all things considered. Throw in a few scotches and good companies, you'll forget that this place was a hospital.

Lowering the strange orb on to the counter that lined the entire width of the room, the Master strode over to a very generic looking oval shaped capsule bed, the glass compartment slipping open with a sharp hiss of air with his approach. With meticulous care, he lowered Elizabeth into the pod, making sure that she remained face up before grabbing her hands and placing it over her chest, like princesses of the fairy tales of old.

And what was he, the prince?

The Master scoffed at the thought, the closest comparison to him at this moment would be Victor Frankenstein or Herbert West, someone tampering with nature for his own ends.

And he doesn't give a fuck.

Turning away from Elizabeth, he walked toward the counter with a sink and twisted the tab, cool water filled up the basin as he grabbed a fresh towel from the cabinet above. Only after turning off the tab did the Master realized he wasn't the room sole occupant. Submerging the towel in the basin, he gaze at the figure seated on a stool a few counters away, surrounded by bottles of disinfectant and Isopropyl, littered nearby were gauzes, needles, scalpels, and clamps all slick with fresh dripping dark blood. He regarded the Master with a handsome smile before returning to his task of removing jagged shards of arrowheads imbedded deep in his arm, showing no sign of pain as pulled each bloody pieces out of the incision, held taunt apart by clamps, bloody muscle plainly visible.

He was not human, that was for sure, despite having the familiar humanoid bipedal shape. The long flowing mane running down his back was the color of fine silver, and his skin was black, not in the African pigmentation but black in the most literal sense of the color, a piece of night made manifest. He was also huge, even sitting down he towered over the Master by about eight inches, shoulders broad and wide, a physique of a warrior. Beside his naked bleeding arm, he was clad in a demonic looking plate armor carved in a flowing visage of dragon scales, a wicked curved sword the size of a zweihander leaning on a nearby counter.

"Good to see you again my friend." The Master greeted him as one would a close acquaintance.

"I would clasp hand with you, Master, but unfortunately I find myself occupied." He pulled a particularly large piece from his bicep, flicking it into the blood tray before removing the clamps holding his wound open, the flab of skin closing over his exposed sinew as he took a needle and began sewing.

"Morgul shards." The Master observed with a hint of surprise, leaning close to see the fragmented arrow head. "All things considered, you should be dead."

"My adversary thought the same. They seemed rather annoyed by my staunch refusal to die." He cut the string and wrapped fresh strips of cloth around the wound before placing his armor back on.

"So everything went well then?"

"The spread has been halted for now, a fleeting moment of respite for us. The banner of the One Eye and the Thorn Crown continue to grow unabated, my presence can stifle their advance, but what am I but a single wavering beacon against the massing storm," he flexes his bandaged arm, face unreadable. "The one they called Melkor was especially troublesome."

"Hah!" The Master laughed, picking up the towel and gave it a good rinse. "Everybody on the internet says you would absolutely destroy Melkor, given your legendary reputation and list of victims."

"Scholars love to debate, ignorant of the workings of worlds and the fortitude of each dramatis. Champions of each reality are but a master of their own island in this endless ocean of stars. A sovereign of single island cannot contest with those who ruled over a growing archipelago." He rose from his seat and reached for his sword, slinging the leather harness over his back.

"Trust me, calling those people 'scholar' would be giving them way too much credit."

Damp towel in hand, the Master returned to Elizabeth and began wiping blood and grime from her battered face, taking great care as he traced the wet cloth over the shapely contour like a sculptor caring for his masterpiece. Once he was done, the Master was surprised to see how young she was. Beside the bruises she looked exactly like when Booker first found her in Monument Tower, carefree, curious and innocent. Damn makeup made it looked like she aged a decade when the events of Infinite and Burial at Sea were only a couple of months apart.

"She is a very beautiful woman." He came to stand beside the Master, towering shadow falling over Elizabeth.

"I agree." The Master said, throwing the dirty towel on to an empty counter.

"Quite dead though."

"Your perception of mortality is truly frightening Anomander." The Master waved his hands over the side of the pod, a neon panel lit up to reveal a lighted touchscreen interface completed with a keypad and a small display screen. Punching in a command and pressing enter, the glass compartment slipped over the unmoving Elizabeth, sealing her inside capsule, ethereal wispy layer of vapor materialized to blanket her in thin misty veil.

"The pod will keep her in stasis, safe from the corroding hands of time," the Master waved away the holo-pad, "while the cloud of nanites heals any lingering wound."

"You plan to resurrect her." Anomander uttered the obvious.

"Yes I do."

"I confess curiosity Master. I doubt it would be as politically taxing as when you negotiated with Mother Dark for my return to mortal flesh."

"It would be through the use of complex genetic science, befitting the norm of her reality."

"And you hold mastery over this procedure?"

"No. But I found two who does."

"That he did indeed." A new voice, female and pompously British that it teetered on the stereotypical, spoke. There was a sound of steel cutting air. The Son of Darkness form was a blur as he unslung his sword and swung, the silver gleaming arc honing on the speaker with fatal intend, stopping less than an inch from the target's neck, the inhumanely sharpened blade hovering close to the soft white skin. A crack appeared on Robert Lutece's face, his perpetual visage of aloof calmness contorting into that alien emotion known as fear, bewildered eyes darting toward the unnaturally cold steel a hair length away from his jugular. Rosalind Lutece however, allowed herself a snide grin at her brother predicament, knowing that the blade was actually meant for her.

"You're scared." Rosalind quipped.

"Impressed would be the correct term." Robert responded, his face having returned to the familiar calmness despite the situation.

"Fear can illicit such response."

"That would be the case if fear was indeed the catalyst in the first place."

"So you are not in the slightest terrified?"

"Don't be preposterous."

"Not even a pinch?"

"No."

The Master turned to regard the two newcomers with an extended hand, prompting Anomander to lower then sheathed his weapon, the rasping of his sword sounded almost disappointed as it slid back into the scabbard, bloodshed denied.

"Rosalind and Robert Lutece." The Master shook their hands. "Welcome to my little sanctuary, please call me the Master. I hope that your journey here wasn't too difficult. This is, after all, the furthest you two have ever traveled."

"We've managed quite splendidly, thank you very much." Rosalind spoke with a hint of pride.

"And I believed you have met my associate," the Master gestured to the onyx skinned, nine feet tall warrior who bowed apologetically. "This is Anomander Rake, Lord of Moonspawn, the Son of Darkness, and Consort of Mother Dark."

"If I have caused the both of you any fright, I am truly sorry," the Son of Darkness moved with the grace of trained nobility, his voice was a refined melodic tenor exuding welcoming warmth and undeniable authority. "Although I do advice the both of you not to attempt such entry again. Oponn's pull may have saved you this time but luck is a fickle thing and the jester twins are known to be rather mischievous. Perhaps they saw a kindred spirit?"

"I'm having a hard time grasping what he's trying to say." Robert began.

"Manners dear brother. Different world, different rules after all." Rosalind continued.

"Ah yes. One could get too intimate with familiarity."

"Indeed. Here we are at the very edge of existence."

"The gate to the very infinite of infinity."

"And I found myself feeling crushingly inadequate."

"Because of how insignificant our achievements are on the cosmic scale?"

"Depressing isn't it?"

"Don't pout dear sister, it's unbecoming."

"Hmm. You two remind me of a certain fat man from Darujhistan," a light smile creased the Son of Darkness's face. Lost in the memory of a place he had come to miss. "Memories are burdensome thing sometime. For every summer there is a hundred winters, for every faintest flicker of hope there is the bitter storm of despair." He then bowed politely at the twins and turned away. "I will leave you two to conduct business with the Master. Please excuse me." He took three wide gaits before pausing, head turning toward the pulsing static orb that the Master had left forgotten all this time. Grabbing a nearby stool, he seated himself next to the counter and stared at the orb, deep in unmoving concentration.

"Not a very cheery fellow is he?" Robert commented.

"Cut him some slack," The Master spoke up, turning to face the Lutece twin. "Both of you might be able perceive and interact with all possibility in your universe, but you two are but a boat, rowing in the endless sea of time, grasping only the vastness of its surface yet remaining blind to its depth. You are the boat, but he is the ocean and all that dwells within."

"And the depth crushes and chains you my friend," the Son of Darkness responded, his gaze never leaving the orb. "What a life it would be to witness mortality as an audience, rather than its unwitting actor."

"You're right brother, he is terribly dull." Rosalind added.

"Enough." The Master announced, the gravitas and urgency in his voice stopping the twins from continuing their trademark banter. "I think you know why I've asked you to come."

"You wish to bring back dear Elizabeth." Robert took the lead.

"The poor lamb of Columbia who had lost everything." Rosalind falling in sync.

"Her freedom."

"Her innocence."

"Her father."

"Her power."

"And finally, her very life in an attempt at redemption."

"Terribly ill advice."

"And underwhelming in conclusion."

"Hench your eagerness to help."

"Of course. She deserved better than the hand that was dealt her."

"Truer words have never been spoken," the Master interrupted the Lutece waltz of words. "The universe is unfair and merciless, yet when we can, shouldn't we attempt to right those cosmic injustices? It would be nothing short of irresponsible for the like of us to simply turn away, wouldn't you think? We need to lend a helping hand once in a while after all."

"As you have did in the past, or the future yet to come depending on where you stand on the thread of time," Rosalind allowed herself a hint of a smirk when the Master shot her a startled look. "An interference with another Lamb I presumed?"

The Master eyes narrowed dangerously on the physicist. So she knew, unsurprisingly, but it was still alarming nonetheless. He would have to keep a closer eye on the Lutece from now on.

"I'm a very busy person," the Master swiftly changed the subject. "I need the both of you to retrieve the sample of Elizabeth's hair in Suchong's clinic. Then I want you to find a Vita-Chamber and input her genetic code into its database. Can you do that?"

"Well that was truly anti-climactic." Robert said with a hint of disappointment.

"It's almost insulting how he demands such a meager task of us." Rosalind added, a bit of sass in her tone.

"But it shall be done, as was agreed."

"Soon Elizabeth shall once again walk among the living."

"Pinky whole and free of omniscience."

"Most excellent." The Master nodded slowly. The Vita-Chamber won't bring back her power, right? She canceled out all of her power when she returned to Rapture, so when she's resurrected she would be just be another normal person. No point in dwelling on it though, he'll know the answer soon enough.

"You two want something to drink?" The Master asked the Lutece, starting off toward a counter at the other side of the room.

"We've transcended such earthly needs." Rosalind stated.

"Oh come on! You seriously going to tell me you can't enjoy a nice glass of…"

" _Oh this is wonderful! Come dance with me Mr. DeWitt!_ "

The Master froze in his steps, even the Lutece cast each other alarmed glance. Nobody dared move as the occupants slowly came to a swift conclusion that they had just heard Elizabeth. Her voice jagged and static like how you would hear someone speaking through a Tear. With quicken steps the Master rushed to the healing pod and craned his neck closer to the glass compartment, the Lutece taking their place beside him. Sure enough Elizabeth was still there, unmoving and very surely dead.

" _Booker! Catch!_ "

Okay, this was getting a little spooky. Taking his eyes off the unmoving Elizabeth, the Master cast his eyes across the room and found nothing, only dumfounded emptiness starring back. With millennia of experiences and knowledge of a thousand realities under his belt, the Master raked his head to find an answer to this phenomenon. Soon enough he came to the most apt conclusion given the situation:

Elizabeth's ghost was loose.

" _Come on! Come on, let's go right now!_ "

Feeling a tad on edge, the Master hands slowly reaches slowly into his coat, drawing the apparatus most appropriate the current supernatural phenomena. A blinking fully charged proton gun and the dread Camera Obsecura armed with the best exorcising films. He ain't afraid of no ghost.

" _Booker…are you afraid of God?_ "

"Okay fuck this, I'm calling Tangmo and Yuki. Here, hold this." Handing the Camera Obsecura to the confused looking Rosalind, the Master whipped out his iPhone and began mashing the screen. Problem with guns? Call the professional Russian. Ghost? Call the professional Asians.

"Hmm, how interesting." His thump pausing an inch away from the send button, the Master followed Robert Lutece gaze toward the room other occupant. No longer staring idly at the glowing grey orb, Anomander Rake was weaving his gauntleted hands over the enigmatic apparition, trails of glittering shadow followed his waving palm across the smoky static surface, the pulsing cloud of night dances briefly over the wispy swirling mass before dispersing. The Master sprinted to his side and peered over the Tiste Andii broad shoulders, while the Lutece moved to flank him, interest piqued by the strange display.

" _Booker you there? I miss you…_ "

"She had suffered a great deal in her young life." Anomander commented, hands and fingers moving like a puppeteer.

"How are you doing that?" The Master inquired.

"Darkness and death share similar properties, separated by thin veil that it would sometime appeared interchangeable. Kurald Galain can sometime be used to interact with the more ephemeral denizen of the dark."

"Wait, so what the hell exactly is this thing?" The Master pressed on.

"Observe." The Son of Darkness hand swished and darted over the orb, the dark manifestation flowed like a swathe of paint on a canvas before quickly fading, the static surface flashing before a voice boomed forth.

 _"_ _I left Sally to rot. For what? So I could punish Comstock?_ "

The voice stuttered and fizzed to static before withering away to silence. Rake pulled his hand away and gave it a quick shake before spinning on his stool to face the Master and the Luteces with an expectant look of a teacher waiting for an answer from his student.

"You found a piece of her memory suspended in a quantum anomaly, a fragment remnant of what she was." The disappointed smile from Rake was enough to bring out Rosalind more heated streak, brows furrowing indignantly at his scoffing disregard of her assessment. The Master barely able to hold back a croaking laugh.

"Oh? Then please, explain what this is." Rosalind voice rose by a few sharp decibels.

"This is her soul." The Son of Darkness replied temperately.

"Ha! Called it." The Master laughed as he tucked away his iPhone and proton gun before reaching to take the Camera Obsecura back from the dumbfounded looking Rosalind, pushing it into his coat. Wouldn't want to accidently exorcised Elizabeth soul now would we?

"A soul?" Rosalind repeated mockingly.

"Different world, different rules. Remember dear sister?" Robert quipped only seems to fan Rosalind rising ignominy.

"Actually…" the Master interjected, "I did found this at the exact spot where she dies, so this is technically from your world." He shrugged absentmindedly. "Must be its my third eye that made me saw it or something."

"This woman…Elizabeth, as you called her? Is a very exceptional individual," the Son of Darkness continued. "She possesses ability that is both unique and powerful."

"She can rip open the very fabric of space and time, and travel with ease between parallel realities." Robert spoke up. "She suffered a collapse of her quantum superposition however, losing all of her ability and god like omniscience."

The Lord of Moonspawn nodded thoughtfully before continuing. "Powers are living things in upon itself. Lacking sentiency, but alive nonetheless. It is an ethereal formless entity residing within one's body and soul, a pure concentrated energy that can't truly dies but instead be displaced, shattered or changed once its vessel capitulate. In the case of this Elizabeth, I believe her powers were merely shattered and scattered at the moment of her collapse, as you put it. These orbs, and other like it, are fragments of her imbued spirit."

"Intriguing, but what does these orbs means for Elizabeth?"

"You can't truly be contemplating this nonsense, can you?" Rosalind huffed at Robert.

"I'm merely expanding my horizon." Robert waved her off.

"You're doing this to antagonize me, aren't you?"

"Is it working?"

"Effectively so."

"A soul deeply woven with power such as this one will fight to return to its vessel," The Son of Darkness continued. "A shattered mirror where the shards slowly gravitate toward each other to mend and make itself whole once more. And when that happen, her power will more than likely return."

Who could he not see it? Of course Rake was right. All those flashbacks and flash-forward Elizabeth kept seeing throughout Burial at Sea Part 2 weren't just random glimpse of the possible future, but her god like omniscience fighting to come home.

"Terrific, we're hunting for lost spirits now," Rosalind sneered at the concept. "Perhaps we should enlist the aid of a Caribbean voodoo enchantress, a devoted priest and ancient Caledonia druid to perform the ritual needed to return Ms. DeWitt soul to her body as well."

"Can they truly accomplish the task?" The earnest question seemed only make Rosalind more frustrated. "I am no necromancer, the knowledge is beyond me."

"I can." The Master spoke up, all heads turning to him. "I have the tools, the method and the means to do it."

"Will you be assisting then my good…man?" Robert inquired the Son of Darkness.

"From what I can gather, my presence would be too much of an anomaly in your reality," he casted an unreadable look at Rosalind before getting up from his stool. "It would be better for all party if I make my exit now."

"All for the best I presume." The sister Lutece responded, simmering down somewhat.

"Shame, the matter of spirituality did seem rather fascinating." And Rosalind flared up again. At this point the Master believed Robert was just trying to see how far he can reached into the fire without getting burned.

"We are leaving." With an impatient wave of her hand Rosalind summoned a Tear, the Son of Darkness flashes an impressed grin as the twins moved to stand before it. "You can count on us to fulfill our part in preparing the Vita-chamber while you pursue a more…esoteric path. Good day. We will be in touch."

And with a blink the Tear disappeared along with the Lutece twins, leaving the Master with the Son of Darkness who was conjuring a portal of his own, a black swirling mass of pulsing energy, a miniature black hole.

"You need to be somewhere?" The Master asked.

"Another one of your allies has requested a meeting with me," the Son of Darkness answered. "A certain lady Alatáriel, I feared that our appointment might have been delay courtesy of Ms. Elizabeth."

"Ouch! You might want to hurry then," the Master ushered him on with a laugh. "She doesn't take kindly to tardiness, and have a temper to match too."

"Then I feared that I had made an appalling first impression," he bowed to the Master. "Best of luck in your endeavor, Master."

"Farewell Anomander." The Master waved goodbye and the Son of Darkness stepped through the Kurald Galain warren, the swirling portal convulsed and collapsed on itself before disappearing in a puff of black smoke. Taking a deep breathe, the Master took one look at Elizabeth before heading for his own, less conspicuous portal. Conspicuous in this case being an unassuming brown door. A quick stop at the inventory, the workshop and the armory, then it's back to Rapture. Again. 

* * *

Lita was going to be pissed once she found out he took the immensely overpowered Azura's Star from her, but hey, it's not like she needed it for a routine dungeon crawl anyway, everything was bloody easy to deal with in Skyrim.

And he was the Master, so he can take whatever he damned well please.

Holding and carrying the swirling pointed star however, proved to be a bit of hassle, so he gave the Daedric artifact a little modification. Gazing at his finished creation, the Master can't help felt a beaming, almost narcissistic, pride at his boundless creativity and innovativeness. The Azura's Star had now been affixed firmly on the knuckle of the Oni Gauntlet from the Onimusha video game, sitting atop where the Dragon Orb was supposed to be. The best of two worlds. Both artifacts are used to locate and trapped wandering souls, combining the star and the gauntlet together should increase this capability by the tenth fold.

And look! It spins!

Willing the gauntlet to stop, the Master gazed at the bright white light emanating from the star's crystal chambers, Elizabeth's soul, the orb from before, already residing within.

The Master was now back in Rapture, as radiant as the place was in life it was even more beautiful in death. Make no mistake, it was still the dark, depressing and decrepit place slowly succumbing to war and decadence, but strangely enough there was still splendor in decay. The shattered glasses of a once grand chandelier, the broken dance floor where the gusto of life were expressed in roaring joy of songs and laughter, the abandoned shops and stores where riches once flowed to the currents of coins and bills, all shrouded in the dim oppressive shade of dark ocean green. It was grim, it was morbid, it was beautiful. Even ruins of glory long passed can still incite awe and wonder to those that stepped between its crumbling pillars.

He was back in the corridor where Elizabeth had died. Nothing had really changed at all since the last time he was here, which was about five hours ago. Even Lonnie remains was still there, nothing but a pile of black soot now.

Hi Lonnie! And fuck you.

Walking nonchalantly down the corridor, the Master thought about the one particular area where he was sure fragments of Elizabeth's soul were lingering, Fontaine's Department Store, now floated up to the same level as the rest of Rapture. In fact, the Master was pretty sure that he was already inside the department store, the more decrepit part of it anyway.

The Master gave his gear a quick check before heading off, a modest selection all things considered: a Yautja cloaking device, an M6D pistol and a Cimmerian dagger. He then placed his Apple EarPods into his ears and selected a new playlist The Eights had made for the tragic occasion that was Elizabeth passing.

The aptly named: 'Super Sad Music Collection: Ken Levine is worse than GRRM edition.'

Pressing play, the first song on the playlist was 'Will the Circle Be Unbroken?' sung by Elizabeth herself. This was either Henry or Damien picks.

 _"_ _There are loved ones in the glory, whose dear forms you often miss."_

The Master gave a contended sigh as he walked off into the bowel of the sunken city, the angelic voice of the Lamb of Columbia his only companion.

 _"_ _Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, by and by? Is a better home awaiting, in the sky, in the sky?"_

The Azura's star seemed to be glowing brighter with every step he took, the sharp spokes spinning fast when he pointed at a certain direction. Nice, it can sense the other fragments. This would make things a lot easier. Following the stars, the Master found himself approaching the Manta Ray Lounge, the sound of shuffling foot and muffled conversation emanated beyond the closed double door. Pressing the alien console on his left arm, the Master watched as lights bended and warped around him to the buzz of crackling electricity, his body becoming transparent. The song ended the moment he entered the Manta Ray Lounge, the dozen or so Atlas goons loitering about cast a stupid look at the entrance, not one noticing the hazy transparent outline of the Master flipping them off as he waltzed inside. Sure enough, the next song on the playlist was 'You Belong to Me', also sung by Elizabeth. Again, more than obviously chosen by the American of the Canadian.

 _"_ _See the pyramids along the Nile, watch the sunrise from the tropic isle._

 _Just remember darling all the while, you belong to me."_

The Master followed the spinning dial of the star into an unremarkable door, down snaking stairs case and narrow musty corridor. A few thugs, some with the early onset of ADAM induced deformity, patrol the place. The Master could leave them alone, but the very narrow linear passageway could prove problematic if he was discovered, the leaking ceiling was already disrupting his cloaking. So he simply walk up to them and squeezed the cluster of pressure point at the base of their necks, they all drop with a thud.

Live short and miserable assholes.

Pushing open a door, the Master came to stand inside a sparse abandoned room, the Azura's star shinning with blinding intensity now. Taking his eyes off the gauntlet, the Master inspect his surrounding and recognized immediately where he was. The interrogation room where Atlas hammered the pick into Elizabeth's eyeball and threatened the same thing with Sally.

 _"_ _Fly the ocean in a silver plane, sea the jungle when its wet with rain._

 _Just remember till you're home again, you belong to me."_

Sure enough an orb was hovering on the chair Elizabeth was tied to, smaller than the previous one, but glowing radiant white light all the same. Closing his eyes and uncloaking himself, the Master willed the Oni gauntlet and Azura's star to life, got into the deep concentrating stance like Samanosuke for dramatic effect, and drew the soul toward him. The orb moved slowly at first, then it picked up speed and hurtled toward the gauntlet like a comet. It slammed into the star, ramming hard into the Masters arm as bright light flare for a moment before fading into the Daedric artifact, the crystal shone bright for a second before dimming, the soul successfully retrieved. Giving his arm a quick shake and reactivating his cloak, the Master retraced his steps as the next song on the playlist starts. It took a moment for him to recognize the solemn acoustic opening guitar solo of 'One Last Goodbye' by Seventh Wonder, depressingly fitting all things considered, leave it to Tangmo to pick one of the most heart breaking ballad for the occasion.

 _"_ _When every day hurts and tear keep on falling, we're letting you go, the shadows are calling."_

The Master exited the Manta Ray Lounge, giving himself a fair distant away from the place before deactivating his cloaking device, letting the contraption recharged itself. The Azura's star was spinning again, and he headed off in the direction the spoke spun the fastest. Buzzing static turning him invisible once more with a flick of a button.

 _"_ _One last goodbye, we're all here beside you, your soul will fade like a rose in the dark."_

The looming multi-story department store rose before him, cascading stream of the ocean poured from the crack in the towering windows, broken balcony with hanging pieces of wood and plasters surrounded him. All businesses had been looted to hell, broken glasses and blood littered the floor. Deranged splicers infested the place, one somehow saw his cloaked outlined and rushed the Master. Fortunately for him, the MD6 pistol administered a healthy, and much need, dosage of 9mm aspirin to the screeching madman. The effect was mind blowing effective. The loud gunshot echoed across the empty hall and the Master flinched for a moment, then relaxed after remembering that he was dealing with splicers, not zombies, they won't Zerg rush him en masse.

Probably.

Holstering the pistol, the Master started off again, without glancing at the star, he knew exactly where to go.

 _"_ _But your memory…memory…memory will remain."_

The first death of Elizabeth, impaled to the wall by lances of exposed rebar, early stages of decomposition indiscriminately eating away at cloths and skin. It wasn't the macabre center piece that shocked the Master, but the amount of soul shards scattered in glittering multitude, a miniature galaxy gravitating around the corpse. The Azura's star spun with maddened hunger while the Oni gauntlet gave an eager hum. Bracing himself, the Master summoned the spirits to the gauntlet as a new song began. Hand quivering and blinded by the bright bombardment of souls, the Master was a tad confused by the seemingly upbeat piano opening. Then lyrics kicked in.

 _"_ _I know, I know I've let you down, I've been a fool to myself, I thought that could live for no one else."_

This had to be Yuki's pick, it has to be. Because who the hell else would be evil enough to put 'Kom Susser Tod' right after 'One Last Goodbye'?

It took a good five minutes before all the souls were finally drawn into the Daedric artifact, the heat from the gauntlet seared through his clothing and smoke rose from the still spinning Azura's star in steaming wisps. The Master was sweating profusely, the seeping chill of the Atlantic forgotten, his arm rising to wipe away a soaking sheen, wondering how in the hell did Samanosuke managed to look so cool and collected when he does the exact same thing.

Being a samurai might actually have something to do with that.

Steadying himself, the Master could hear skittering steps and shuffling feet behind him, followed by chattering teeth and hissing whispers rising in hungry multitude. Of course the light show wouldn't go unnoticed. He gazed down at his now visible hand, the aftershock from the archaic necromantic apparatus has fried the alien cloaking device, then back up to see the pitiful and deformed denizens of Rapture stepping into the soft ocean light. Crude weapons of pipes, wrenches and butcher knives shaking with anticipation as they circled the Master, twelve in all, bodies hunched and ready to pounce.

 _"_ _What's done is done it feels so bad, what once was happy now it's sad, I'll never love again, my world is ending."_

Wow, the music was really making him felt sorry for these people. Could they have known that this would happen? That the utopia they seek would become an inescapable hell? A place that corroded their minds and twisted their bodies into a grotesque parody of humanity, to prowl the ocean floor akin to lowly beasts, dwelling in purgatory but never truly dead? Drawing his MD6 pistol and unsheathing in his cold northern steel, weapon in each hands, the Master remembered that wise mantra as he scanned his adversaries.

Kill the mutants, purge the unclean.

It would only be mercy for them at this point.

"It glows! I saw it glows!" A hideous squawk sounded from behind bloody masquerade mask.

"Pretty like an angel!" Another added.

"It got ADAM! More than enough to share!" This one sounded hungry.

"Witness." The Master responded. "And find peace."

 _"_ _It all returns to nothing, it all comes tumbling down, tumbling down, tumbling down."_

The Master whipped the pistol in a wide backhanded arc and squeezed the trigger. Five deafening bangs echoed in thunderous succession, a ringing reverberation amplified by the hall absolute silence. Five splicers fell, a blooming bullet hole on their head, faces frozen in clueless snarl unaware of their own demise. The remaining seven charged, wild and fierce, weapons swung over their head with bloody intend. Tightening his grip on the Cimmerian dagger the Master sprang at the oncoming splicers, a dark shadowy blur flashing sharp silver, the confident bestial cries quickly taking the all too familiar note of contorted agony. The first fell with a gagging croak, his jugular severed deep to the vertebrate leaving the neck flapping and hanging by thin strips of flesh. The second and third found their weapon arms spinning free from their torso, trailing streaks of twirling crimson. Terrible scream parted their malformed lips for a heartbeat before ending in a sputtering gurgle, the Master driving his dagger deep into the skull of one and crushing the temple of another with a savage spinning elbow. The fourth and fifth careened lifeless to the ground with an bursting gunshot wound on their chest, and the sixth noticed too late the Cimmerian dagger fly toward her, back flipping gracelessly as the sharpen point punched into her eye socket. Rolling, the Master wrenched the dagger free from her skull, reversed the grip, dashed to the side of the last splicer and gave her a secondhand seppuku. She shrieked a broken soprano as the Master carved opened her belly, wet intestine spilling in steaming red mass. A bullet to the head quickly ended her suffering. Rising, the Master was dusting off his pristine coat when his eyes honed on a single speck of blood marring the gauntlet. Letting out an annoyed tsk, he withdrew a white handkerchief and wiped away the stain. Bloody hell he was out of practice.

 _"_ _It all returns to nothing, I just keeping letting me down, letting me down, letting me down."_

Dead wrong Shinji, he felt pretty goddamn good about himself right now. Nothing like a sudden rush of endorphin to brighten the day, damn he felt so good! The music was dying down now, and there was one last stop he needed to make before returning to Elizabeth. Flexing his arms and stretching his legs, the Master set off toward his final destination at a spritely jog, skipping over his impressive kill streak and skirting the widening pool of blood masterfully, other lurking splicers rightfully giving him a wide breadth. Jogging down the flickering dank corridor, the Master could see the blue neon light of the Silverfin restaurant shining beyond when the next song blared into his ear. It wasn't the abrupt start that caused him to trip and stumbled, but the happy go lucky beats of electronic drums from the 80s that threw him off. In that single moment his glowing joy was replaced by an insatiable desire to kill something, whoever put this song in the playlist will be severely punished for the blatant disrespect to the morbid sanctity that was Rapture and the dear departed Elizabeth. He almost screamed when the lyric began:

 _"_ _We're no stranger to love, you know the rules and so do I, a full commitment's what I'm think of, you wouldn't get this from any other guy."_

He was going to find the smartass that wedged Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' into the playlist, oh yes he will. And by process of elimination, the list of suspects just narrowed down to one. Damn it, the brooding and desolate atmosphere of Rapture was ruined now. He could just skip the song, hopefully to something more fitting, but damned he can't force himself to hate Rick Astley. Shrugging, the Master stomped down the corridor with a grumble, having been thoroughly, embarrassingly Rickroll'd.

The Master hated himself for this, but soon enough his footfall became softer, the dastardly catchy tune growing more infectious to the point where he was skipping to the beat. Oh screw it!

 _"_ _Never gonna give up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you."_

You know what? The lyric actually kinda fit his objective, which made the song a lot more acceptable to the situation. But if anybody ever found out what he was doing right this very moment, what fearsome reputation he had forged over the course of history, across the multitude of universes, would be eternally tarnished and immortalized for millions of years to come.

 _"_ _Never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you."_

The Master actually wondered what the splicers could be thinking as they beheld a tall, broad man in a heavy coat dancing and singing Rick Astley at the top of his lungs through the ruin of Rapture, twirling, pirouetting and leaping like an 80s pop dancer to one of the cheesiest lyric known to man. He can see them peering from the shadow, spying through crevices of cracked plasters and broken furniture, confusion further contorting their malformed faces. Lost on how to properly deal with this anomaly or believing that the mad man was one of their own, none of them moved to attack him. Good, because the song was getting good.

There was a single female splicer inside the Silverfin Restaurant, so preoccupied with looting the place that she didn't registered the humming and skipping Master bounding through the shattered door dangling by its hinges, his boots making an audible crunch on the glass littered floor. Despite being the place where Elizabeth had entered Rapture from Columbia, the number of souls drifting about was disappointingly low, a few sad and lonely orbs drifting aimlessly, empty of purpose. He called them into the Azura's star, no blinding light, no ramming speed, just weak nudges and dimming glow as the souls were collected. With Rick Astley chorus fading to a close, the Master could now hear the splicers muttering to itself.

"You like hide and seek? I like hide and seek! I'm the best one there is! Nobody can run from Clem. Nosey Clemy they called me, and no one gets away!"

Pressing pause on his iPhone and putting away the EarPods, the Master watched the splicers prowled through the cabinets under the bar, still oblivious to him despite his less than conspicuous activity. It actually got him quite curious though, what could so grab the splicer attention that it completely left itself vulnerable to the hazardous surrounding.

Only one thing came to mind though…one…thing…oh shit.

"Where are you, where are you…" the splicer crooned a mad lullaby, the tune quivering with bestial anticipation as she scraped the rusty kitchen knife over the closed cabinet, carving a long, deep uninterrupted line over the wooden surface. Stepping closer to the enclosed bar, his footfall light as falling snow, the Master carefully reached into his jacket, fingers tightening around the warm leather grip of the M6D pistol.

"FOUND YOU!" The splicer screeched and pried loose a cabinet slightly left ajar. Whipping the pistol free from its holster, the Master took aim but let out a frustrated groan, finger hovering over the trigger. Clem the splicer had dived into the small opening, her entire upper torso wedge inside the gaping cabinet, legs kicked and flopped in like fish on land. No clear shot, the Master tried sidestepping to get a better angle but the splicer constant squirming was making the simple task exceedingly difficult.

"Got you now! Got you now! Come to Clemy!" A new petit squeal now joined the splicer's maddened cackle, sharp note rising in piercing cadence. Pushing herself free from the cabinet, Clem the splicer got to her feet and brandished the squirming Little Sister by the ankle like an angler posing with her catch. The screaming and kicking Little Sister had a blonde hair tied in a short ponytail, she wore a black dress and a…bright…red…sash…around her waist…Goddamn it Sally, really? Really?!

"ALL THE ADAM! ALL MINE!" Clem the splicer never got to enjoy her prize though, a bullet dropped her to the floor in a thick puddle of gore, Sally flying from her grip.

"Ow!" She landed on her head with a loud yelp but immediately got up, seemingly unscathed beside the red mark on her forehead. Rubbing the swollen wound, Sally let out a frightened gasp when she saw the Master, her tiny form hunched fearfully as she backed away into the cul-de-sac of the bar, sobbing and trembling.

"No, no, no it's okay, I'm not a splicer," the Master holstered his pistol and held up both his hands, smiling warmly at the Little Sister. "I won't hurt you child."

She ceased trembling then, something akin to recognition danced across those pure white eyes as she slowly smiled, clasping her tiny fingers around his large meaty thump. She laughed, jumping with joy as she spoke.

"You're the big man that saved me from the bad people."

"Yes I am Sally." The Master nodded and knelt down to her level, Sally wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a powerful hug.

"You saved me again!" She beamed. "You're just like Mr. Bubble!"

The Master chuckled as Sally let go of his neck, "hopefully I'm not that much like Mr. Bubble."

"No…he can't talk." Sally then turned around and ran back toward the open cabinet, crawling into the dark opening. Letting out an exasperate groan the Master came to kneel beside the cabinet, way too small for him to fit inside.

"Sally come out, it's not safe in there," shuffling foot and humming answered him. "Please Sally I know a place where the bad people can't hurt you."

Sally reappeared moments later, the doll from before clutched tight in her hand, the head now attached to its body, and wrapped in her skinny right arm was an object the Master didn't expected to see. It was a vinyl cover, and gracing the centerfold beside the insane artist Cohen was none other than Elizabeth, the Songbird herself.

"Wow…" Absentmindedly reaching for the object, the Master was startled when Sally spun sharply away from him, both arms now clinched around the cover.

"I'm sorry Sally." The Master began. "May I…"

"No!" Sally snapped, fiercely protective and turning her back to him.

"I'm not going to take it I just…"

"No!"

"Sally I just want to…"

"No!"

"Please?"

"No!"

"Pretty, pretty, please?" The Master couldn't believe he was begging Sally just to see a simple vinyl cover. He was on his knees and pouting for gods' sake, what remained of his reputation after the whole Rick Astley stint just pretty much went down the toilet.

Sally slowly turned to face him, eyeing the large man with cold suspicious. Her guard dropped slowly though, and before long she cautiously handed the vinyl cover to the Master, who bowed and clasped his hand together in thanking gesture, before very carefully taking the object from the Little Sister reluctant grip. Rising to his feet, the Master inspected the almost pristine condition of the cover, Sally grunting as she edges closer to him, bulging pearly eyes never leaving her prize possession. Weighing it in his palm, the Master tilted the cover to the side and found a perfect undamaged vinyl rolling out, the polished black surface gleaming like gold in the neon light. He cast an impressed look at Sally, who only pouted and fidgeted nervously. This would be a perfect addition to his ever growing collection of universal oddities, not to mention Henry and Damien would go ballistic over this. But this was Sally finds, and from the looks of it this vinyl, more specifically the cover, meant a great deal to her. So with a smile, he handed it back to Sally who snatched it from his hands and hugged in possessively.

The Master kept expecting her to hiss 'My precious'.

"You are a very lucky girl." The Master knelt and patted her on the head, Sally giggled at the touch. "Take great care of this, okay?"

She nodded heartily, but quickly became sullen as she gazed at the portrait of Elizabeth.

"She saved me from the bad men. They hurt her and they hurt me, but she never gave up." Sally sobbed, lips quivering. "And now she's gone…the bad man hurt her so much…now she's never coming back…because of me…"

"Sally listen to me," the Master spoke sternly as he scooped the girl into an embrace, tears soaked his shirt as the Little Sister wept, her cry strangled. "This is not your fault. You can never think like that do you understand? She made the choice herself, you can never blame yourself for that." Guiding her face upward, the Master gently wiped the tears from Sally's cheek with his thumbs. "All she wanted was for you to be free of Rapture. And given the chance, she would gladly save you all over again. So, no sad faces okay?"

Sally steadied herself and nodded, pushing herself away from the Master. Sniffing but no longer crying, she managed a shaky smile for him and said. "You're my hero too."

Chuckling, the Master rose to his feet and cast quick glances around the empty restaurant before turning back to Sally, "I'm going take you somewhere safe. Close your eyes."

Sally gave him a hesitantly look, her two possessions clung tight to her chest.

"Trust me Sally." The Master summoned the warmest smile he could muster and reached out his hand, "The last thing I want is for you to get hurt."

Head cast down in deep thought, the Master waited patiently as Sally shuffled uneasily where she stood, indecisiveness plain on her frowning face, trepidation and courage warring for control. Her ghostly eyes came up to meet his, the creamy orb inquisitive and searching, piercing into his very soul. Children, no matter how damaged, were more attuned to sincerity that the most trained of diplomat, a natural trait that withered with the corrosion of innocence. Blinking, Sally gave herself a small reassuring nod before tucking the doll and vinyl under one arm and reached her petit hand toward the Master, resting it on his large palm.

"Okay…" Sally voice was barely a whisper as the Master slowly wrapped his hand around her own. The Little Sister gave tiny gasp but quickly eased into the warmth and comfort of the touch.

"Close your eyes now." The Master instructed again and this time Sally complied with little reluctance, her eyelids fluttering close, brow furrowing. Waving his hand over her face to check, the Master smiled after Sally didn't flinch at the quick movement.

"Are you ready?" Sally nodded and the Master snapped his finger.

If there was an audience to this unfolding scene, then the ending would have left them flabbergasted with gaping perplexity. One moment the Master and Sally were standing in the Silverfin Restaurant, the next vanishing without as much as a hint of dust in their wake. In a way, his power was quite similar to the Lutece, only that he wasn't confined to a single reality and its many flavors of repetition. He can actually go anywhere he wants, good places for Sally to live her life and heal the scars inflicted by this universe. But the canon must be preserve, so the Master and Sally materialized in an empty corridor, no splicers or Big Daddy to be seen or heard anywhere.

"Open your eyes." Sally blinked a few time before gasping in surprise, mouth wide open as she took in the familiar yet new architect of Rapture.

"Are you a wizard?" She exclaimed, the corridor amplifying her high pitched squeal.

Laughing, the Master simply shrugged playfully, "Kind of."

"Do it again!" Sally was bouncing with glee, the Master needed to grab her shoulders to still the ecstatic girl.

"Now Sally, do you know why I brought you here?" The Master asked, the hint of solemnity grounding the Little Sister, her head shaking in answer.

"Down that way, is a nice lady that will take care of you," he pointed down the corridor. "You will be safe, and you will have many friends."

"Will you come with me?" That struck him right through the heart, the expectantly look on Sally face was heartbreakingly hopeful, the Master has to be the first adult to show her any semblance of kindness in a long time.

"I'm sorry Sally, but I have to go," he squeezed her shoulders, the Little Sister on the brink of tear again. "I need you to be a brave little girl for me and Elizabeth okay? Be strong for the both of us."

"Okay…" Sally sobbed but nodded, quickly wiping away the tears welling in her eyes and straightened her back. "I will be brave."

"Good girl." The Master move to pat her head but Sally lunged at him, wrapping herself around his neck in a tight squeezing hug. He returned the gesture and for a few minutes they remained unmoving in each other embrace. To his surprise it was Sally who broke off the hug, a brave little girl indeed. She stood facing him and said: "Goodbye."

"Goodbye Sally." The Master bowed and watched as Sally pattered down the dimly lit corridor, the doll and vinyl in each hand, never once did she turned to look around.

All for the best.

The Master slowly eased back into the shadow, his gaze never leaving Sally until she disappeared down the hall. He stood there and waited until the sound of screeching iron door echoed down the hall followed by a concussively loud slam. Satisfied that Sally was now safe with Tenenbaum, the Master took a deep breath of relief and made his exit from Rapture. Like before, white flooded his vision and he was back in the square medical room, truly empty this time.

Just one more thing to do.

Flexing his gauntleted arm, the Master strode over to the peaceful form of Elizabeth, dead yet unchanging. Holding his quivering open palm over the glass cover, the Asura's star and Oni gauntlet shinning white burning fire, the Master uttered a single word:

'Kaiho.'

The spinning star stopped with a loud metallic clang, iridescent silvery light flowed from the crystal compartment, charting countless snaking trails over the gauntlet polished surface, all entwining routes rejoining at the nexus on his opened palm. The Master watched as a translucent stream rolled from his hand, curving a serpentine path toward Elizabeth, the healing pod becoming incorporeal as the wispy rope simply phase through the machine, the tip fraying into a wide encompassing wave that washes over her body. Elizabeth body glowed, similar to when Booker destroyed the siphon at the climax of Bioshock Infinite, just not as violent or earthshattering. The process went on uninterrupted for more than ten minutes before the last strip of soul return to its earthly vessel. With the task completed, the Master was about to remove the now biting cold gauntlet when he froze, starring unblinking at Elizabeth body which began to distort into a chaotic jumbles of statics.

Oh shit, he just massively fucked up didn't he?

Powerless and out of his depth, the Master could only watch in despair, and hint of anger, as Elizabeth body continued to contort into blurry static shapes, becoming more jagged and formless with each passing second. Just when he was sure that the Lamb of Columbian would be lost for good, the pulsing mass of static began calming, the shape and contour of her body becoming solid once more. The Master didn't dare move a muscle as the last of the concussive glitch in reality wrapped over Elizabeth, praying by name to all the gods he knew that everything would be alright. When we saw that everything was in the clear, the Master swiped his hand over the side of the pod and began typing furiously into the neon keypad.

All life sign reading were normal and the nanites were still working on repairing any lingering physical damages, although it did logged in an error stating that the target was not lost for about twenty seconds. Inspecting her visually, the Master nodded as everything appeared to be in order. That was when his he saw Elizabeth right hand. Her pinky was gone. The superposition returning with the loss of a limb.

Anomander was right, the power has come home.

Walking to the counter, the Master unstrapped the gauntlet from his arm and places it on the granite surface, finally allowing himself a breath of relief. Now he only needed to wait for the Lutece to uphold their part of the deal. Reaching for the cabinet above, he threw the door open and withdrew a bottle of whiskey. Hastily removing the cap, the Master took five satisfying swig and seated himself down on a stool with a moan.

Damn he needed that.

He raised the bottle to the preserved of body of Elizabeth and said, 'cheers', before taking more loud gulps. Nothing would please him more than to just sit here and drink himself into oblivion, but he still had other works to do. Rising, bottle still in hand, he walked over to the gauntlet and gave it a gentle tap before removing the Azura's star from its knuckle. Lita will be needing this back, just as soon as he finished this bottle. And from the look of things, that could be a long while. 

* * *

A few months in real world time later.

About goddamn time the Lutece finally contacted him back, he was beginning to wonder whether the twins had bailed on him. Fording through a raging sandstorm, the Master stumbled back into the medical room, finding the Lutece standing to either side of the healing pod where Elizabeth resided, looking prim and pompous as ever. How long has it been, a couple of real time months? Felt like a couple of centuries after what he and the Eight had been up to. Getting a moment to compose himself, the Master began dusting off the reddish brown sands clinging to his cloak and form fitting, multi-layer suit. Rosalind face creased slightly in distaste as he flapped back his hood and removed the elephantine mask, his face sheathed in sweat as he took deep, long, satisfying breath.

"Interesting outfit." Robert commented.

"Not the type one would recommend for a sandstorm unfortunately." Rosalind added.

"It's a stillsuit." The Master placed the mask down on a counter and helped himself to jug of water, filling it to the brim before drinking greedily. "Design to store as much moisture as possible, and to stop the heat and sand from rendering the flesh from my bones."

"Sound like a terribly horrid place to be." Robert continued.

"Are there fairies and magic in this place too?" Rosalind quipped.

"Nope. Just a two kilometers long giant worm that could swallow an entire town." The Master flashed a toothy grin, the dagger glare Rosalind shot his way was beyond priceless.

"Anyway." He continued. "I trust that your preparation of the Vita-chamber went swimmingly."

"The Vita-chamber is ready," Rosalind began. "Albeit we did miscalculate the time needed to complete the repair and modification."

Okay, that was certainly unexpected. "Define miscalculate. Delays?"

"To put in a less than a finer term, yes." Robert nodded.

"How long?"

"At the time of the project completion it is the year 1969."

The Master turned slowly to face them, doing his best to mimicking the sinister scowl of a Bond villain. He must have ended up looking like Dr. Evil though, because the Lutece twins were far from impressed.

"I'm not even angry, just surprised," a shrug would suffice then. "How did you manage to spend an entire decade fixing one machine? I mean, if you had some difficulty I know people who would jump at the chance to help."

"It is not our capability that obstructs the progress, Mr. Master," Rosalind snapped, sharp but restrained. "We found ourselves preoccupied with a more pressing matter."

"An anomaly has presented itself," Robert interceded before the Master could ask for elaboration. "For the moment let leave the subject at that."

No point in pressing the subject. For now.

The Lutece modus operandi has always been that of theatric enigma, the waltz and pirouettes of shadow, drawing in their audience closer but never nearer to the truth. They will botch their performance eventually, and that would be when he would broach the subject again. But now, Elizabeth takes precedent.

"Fair enough." The Master nodded. "Everything is ready then?"

"Indeed they are." Robert allowed himself a hint of a smile. "I trust the delay doesn't pose any inconvenience to our arrangement?"

"Some last minute adjustment needed to be made," the Master strode up to the healing pod and punched in a sequence of commands on the glowing keypad. "But other than that, we are ready to go."

"Then let us begin." Rosalind announced and the Master pressed the large 'enter' button, the pod hissing open, thin cloud of nanites floated free before dissolving into specks, their job completed. Reaching inside, the Master scooped up Elizabeth onto his large, burly arms, nodding to the Lutece as they summoned a Tear back to Rapture. It was when he was about to step through when Rosalind rounded on him.

"Where is her pinky?" Rosalind inquired, brow raised.

"Still doubting ghost and spirit?" The Master smirked as he stepped into a crumbling corporate office, a glowing working Vita-chamber stood ready to his right. Turning to regard the twins flanking him, the Master simply said: "Let's begin."


	5. The Lambs of Bioshock

There was a blinding flash, followed by a spasming jolt that sends her body flopping against the dirty blue glass pane.

Elizabeth was sure she died.

She remembered that last terrible of image of Atlas. His gleeful snarl as he beat her with the rusty wrench and kicked her prone defenseless form. The pain was indescribable, but she knew what was to become of that monster and was content when death finally came for her, Sally singing her requiem until all faded to black.

Elizabeth was sure she died, which was why it came as surprised to find herself very, surely alive. Her head spun, countless memories flooding back into her throbbing brain, nausea rising up her throat with every hot breath, muscles moving with sluggish reluctance. The glass pane slid to the side suddenly, sending her falling face first into the dirty red carpet. Pushing herself on to her hands and knees, Elizabeth fought down rising bile and slow gaze upward to see two very familiar looking twins starring down at her. Now she really felt like throwing up.

"Doesn't seem like she's too pleased to see us." Elizabeth could only laugh dryly at Robert's comment.

"After everything we've done to bring her back? I'm hurt." Rosalind deadpanned in conjunction.

"But…how?" Elizabeth began, rising wobbly to her feet, "I-I died. How could I…" Her legs swayed drunkenly, muscles and bones recollecting its function, "where's Sally?"

"Far away." Robert stated.

"And safe." Rosalind added.

Elizabeth smiled, leaning back against the wall of crumbling brown plaster. She was free from this sunken nightmare, that's all that mattered. Elizabeth moved to push herself off the wall but tripped after taking one shaky step, courtesy of her uncooperative body, landing gracelessly back to the ground. Grunting, she rose lethargically, cursing her own feebleness. The Lutece not moving to assist, choosing instead to observe her with mild interest.

"I would have expected her to be rather spritely after the Vita-chamber brought her back." Rosalind sounded disappointed by her performance.

"Baby steps dear sister, she's been dead for a decade after all." That got her attention, was her hearing damaged or did Robert just said decade? Before Elizabeth could even mustered a retort the room shook violently and suddenly, throwing her flat on her behind. The Lutece remained unperturbed as always.

"Rapture is in its death throes." Robert began.

"A beast finally succumbing to its wound." Rosalind followed.

"Unfortunately you're still here in its belly."

"The best option would be to escape."

"Flee."

"Run."

"Before your second chance to life ends before it can even begin."

"Shut up!" Elizabeth screamed through her unceasing migraine and the Lutece infuriating banter, sounds of bending steel moaning in agony echoed around her, followed by a resounding metallic snap that send the room into another violent convulsion.

"Where am I?" Panic edged into her voice now. "Which part of Rapture am I in? Where are the bathyspheres? Where can I go?"

"All irrelevant." Rosalind said, wiping away a stray clump of dust that landed on her shoulder. "You simply have to leave Rapture the same way you came in the first place."

Elizabeth could only snort. "I'm just me now remember? No Tears, no power, no omniscience."

"Are sure about that?" As one, the twin parted aside like a theater curtain to reveal something Elizabeth thought she would never see again. A shimmering white fracture in reality hovered before her, humming a slow largo.

A Tear.

A God honest Tear right before her eyes.

"It can't be…" Elizabeth could feel the familiar twinkle of power dancing at the tip of her fingers as she reached out to the Tear. Then she gasped, flipping her hand over multiple times to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

Her pinky was gone, and she didn't know whether to be shock or happy about it.

"Don't dilly dally now." Rosalind ushered her closer to the Tear before placing a thimble on the stub of her missing limb. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes to see what awaits her on the other side, nothing but murky darkness greeted her.

"It's dark." Elizabeth said to no one in particular, eyeing the white laceration with uncertainty. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm not sure if I remember."

When no responses came, Elizabeth tore her eyes away from the Tear and glanced to where the Lutece had stood only to find that the twins had already made their trademark exit.

"Great."

The quake came again and this time the room lurched awkwardly to the side but Elizabeth managed to stay on her feet, balancing herself on the tilted floor as debris and furniture rolled down the suddenly steepened angle. Sharp shattering cackles sounded behind her, Elizabeth spun around in fright to see cracks snaking across the glass pane dominating the wall, water leaking through the widening crevices.

"A leap of faith..."

Elizabeth scrambled back to the Tear. It was either die here in the sinking abyss or face what was beyond the shinning threshold, and the odds of the latter seemed a lot more promising. Placing her hand on the Tear, Elizabeth closed her eyes and concentrated. Gritting her teeth as she pried open the throbbing wound in space and time, Rapture howling its final throe behind her. The Tear expanded slowly but surely, her arms stretched apart as she made a portal big enough for her to fit through. Panting, Elizabeth didn't have time to gather herself as the glass exploded behind her, followed by the rushing foaming ocean. Not looking back, Elizabeth bolted into the Tear.

And found herself drowning.

Arms and legs flailing wildly, her body suspended in dark nebulous void, screams coming out in torrents of bubbles, Elizabeth began sinking into the endless cold of the Atlantic. Mind racing, Elizabeth twisted and spun, not knowing which way was up or down, lungs burning as precious air dwindled with each passing heartbeats.

Then came the light.

Bright white flashes that illuminated the glittering surface of the rolling ocean above, giving Elizabeth the bearing she needed. Summoning what remains of her strength, she swam toward the blinking illuminations, fighting through the burning pain raking her weary muscles and drowning lungs. She clawed desperately at the gleaming light above, pushing harder and harder toward the surface, so close yet unreachable. Barely conscious and driven by the animalistic fervor to survive, Elizabeth swathed the damnable sparkling surface and found her fingers grazing air. Legs kicking with vigorous desperation, Elizabeth at last pushed her face above the sea, gasping for air, blackness receding from her vision to reveal turmoil and chaos.

A storm raged above, the wind a howling hellish choir and the sea rose in mountainous waves, lightning in blinding multitude lanced across the sky like a thousand furious swords. The Rapture lighthouse loomed in the distant, a bright beacon shinning in defiance of the storm, yet the sight brought her no join or comfort. She was tired, every muscles weighing her down like stones and staying afloat was a herculean task that she was slowly failing. She tried to swim but found every movement hindered by the merciless waves, forcing her back into the abyss. Elizabeth wanted to weep but found herself laughing at the cosmic injustice dealt against her. Free from Rapture only to die above it. Closing her eyes, Elizabeth was ready for the end when a blaring horn cut through the screaming winds and the mad drumming of thunder, a discernable disharmony in a wrathful symphony. A ship was fording through the storm, powerful white spotlight shone from the bow, sweeping across the turbulent panorama in a losing battle against the encroaching tempest.

"Help! Help!" Elizabeth swallowed a mouthful of salt water as she waved vainly, her body refusing to stay buoyant and her plea lost amongst the ceaseless cacophony. There was no way the ship could have spotted her, even during a more temperate weather the chance of spotting a castaway in the dark blanket of the night was next to impossible. Elizabeth knew this but refused to succumb to despair, wanting her second last moment in life to be a fighting one. She waved and shouted again, the sea rising to her nose when the bright spotlight came to fix on her drifting form, the bright glare lingered on her for a moment before passing, the ship bulling through the churning sea and battering rain toward her. A smaller, but by no mean less powerful, light shot forth from the portside, and through the bright glare Elizabeth could see a blurry image of a man in flapping raincoat waving at her as he lowered what appeared to be a pole into the water.

Knowing what needed to be done Elizabeth summoned what remains of her energy and swam toward the approaching ship, ignoring her body searing protest. The pole came closer now, parting open the ocean in great unbroken swathe, the light from the powerful lamp illuminating the long wooden shaft.

Muffled by the storm, Elizabeth could hear the man shouting "Grab it! Grab it!" like there was anything else she could be doing instead.

Barely able to keep her eyes above the wave, she gritted her teeth and lunged, the oncoming pole slamming hard into her shoulder. Wrapping herself around the slippery shaft, Elizabeth closed her eyes as she felt herself being wrenched free from the ocean drowning grasp with surprising speed, the wind whipping mercilessly at her shivering body. But she was tired, and sure enough weariness quickly overwhelmed what little remaining strength. Eyes darting with rising fright, Elizabeth squirmed hopelessly as her body began its downward slide, the gapping maw lapping hungrily at her descend.

"No, no, no! Ahhh!" Elizabeth grip on the wooden shaft failed with a piercing shriek, outstretched hand swathing blindly in one last desperate attempt to grab anything that could save her from the ocean below. There was a powerful wrenching tug and Elizabeth found herself suspended over the sea, furious at being denied of its victim. Glancing up, she could vaguely see a large man, his broad frame outlined by the pattering rain, leaning over the ship's railing, his hands tight on her forearm.

"I got you!" He shouted over the storm and pulled her onboard. Elizabeth could only smile as she lay sprawled on the solid ground, too tired to do anything else. She then felt herself being swiftly lifted off the ground, the man burly form shielding her from the worst of the storm as he stomped across the deck. There was a loud bang and the ceaseless downpour ended, the rain becoming a distant, chiming melody muffled by the glass pane. Elizabeth didn't know where she was nor did she care, it was dry and she was safe. She felt her body lowered onto something warm and soft, her weary form sinking into the cushion with a delighted moan. Despite her bliss, Elizabeth could feel another presence hovering nearby, but for the first time in a long while she felt no danger. Forcing her reluctant eyes open, vision blurred and hazy, she finally got to see her rescuer. A strong look man with thick bushy beard in a dirty fishermen overall, grimy and soaked in ocean and rain. Not exactly what a girl would picture her knight in shining armor, but after the misery that was Columbian and Rapture, he makes a good substitute.

"Miss? Miss can you hear me?" He kept a respectful distance, his kind and soothing voice tinged with worries. Grunting, Elizabeth managed a weak nod as the man reached into his coat. Tensing, she expected a gun to materialize in his hand with the barrel whipping toward her. Elizabeth breathe a shallow sigh of relief once she saw the small object in his palm, from the size she guessed that it was a photograph.

"Are you…" He looked at the picture then at her. "Elizabeth DeWitt?"

It was good to hear her name again, better still that it was followed by Booker's surname. She found it unbearable when people back in Rapture referred to her by the pseudonym Comstock, even after her death and rebirth the name still made her skin crawled.

"Yes…" Elizabeth managed weakly before she was assailed by a violent cough, growing worst with every painful hacks and chokes. The man skittered around the room in barely restrained panic, a black blurry shape darting across her teary vision. After it appeared she was about to cough up her lungs, the convulsion slowly subsided to be replaced by a sudden rush of cold that froze her veins. Elizabeth shivered violently as her limbs quickly took a sickly shade of blue.

"Hang on Elizabeth!" The man returned with a thick bundle of blankets which he proceed to hastily piled on her, while he laid an unfamiliar metallic device pulsating deep orange next to her. The warmth radiating from it was distance and pale, unable to free her from the icy grasp now firmly dug into her bones, undeterred by the encroaching heat. Consciousness slipping away, Elizabeth fought to keep herself from drifting into a sleep she might not wake up from. But her eyelids were so heavy. And she was so very, very tired.

"Elizabeth?" His voice was a fading echo now, diming into a whisper. "Elizabeth?! Oh God, Elizabeth don't go to sleep!"

Such a kind voice. Elizabeth would want to hear more but she needed to rest now. At least she took solace in knowing that it wasn't Rapture that claimed her in the end. She smiled for this small consolation as her eyes flickered shut, finally succumbing to the rushing darkness. 

* * *

It was so peaceful.

The other side of the abyss didn't seemed so bad now. No past, no present, no future, just the comforting warmth of sweet oblivion.

But how could she felt anything if death had truly claimed her?

The revelation came with the stirring of her snuggled body, rustling and brushing against the soft cotton cover. She then realized something else. Everything was stilled, no sensation of the constant lurching and swaying rhythm of rising waves.

Startled, Elizabeth eyes shot opened and sure enough she was no longer aboard a ship, but on a soft sofa. A coffee table stood before her, a clear glass vase with a single rose sat atop the dark wooden surface and beyond it a blazing fireplace. A living room quite obviously, probably belonging to the man who rescued her, yet the knowledge brought Elizabeth no comfort. Looks were always deceiving, her experience with the picturesque perfect Columbia and the shinning beacon of Rapture had taught her to be cautious of the grime and rot that lurked beneath the pristine cover. The room looked cozy and welcoming enough, but after enduring so much ugliness in her life, the dark stains of distrust had inadvertently blackened Elizabeth's outlook on the world.

It was when she began moving that Elizabeth realized she was wrapped inside a tight bundle of blankets, warm and nice against her skin, her cheek sinking into the soft silken pillow. Elizabeth can't recall the last time she felt this comfortable, the tower perhaps, where her childhood was spent in gilded imprisonment. Even if that peace was a carefully constructed lie, she had felt content and blissful. Snapping herself back from the quickly darkening memory, Elizabeth went still when she heard the unmistakable pattering of feet drawing nearer. As soundlessly as she could managed, Elizabeth eased herself back into the duvet, turned her head in the direction of the approaching footfall and narrowed her eyes to a slit, watching as the fuzzy silhouette walked into view. To her surprise, it was a young woman clad in loose jean and a shirt of unrecognizable style. She knelt before the fireplace, back turned to Elizabeth and stroked the flame higher up the chimney. Who was she? Where was the man that saved her from Rapture? Is she related to him in some way? A daughter perhaps?

"I know you're awake." Elizabeth flinched when the woman spoke suddenly, the English accent reminding her slightly of Rosalind Lutece, only it sounded a lot more humble and human.

"Sorry." Elizabeth managed meekly and rose to a sitting position, dropping the sleepy façade. "I didn't mean to spy."

"It's okay." The woman spun around and Elizabeth found herself tensing as she stared into a face that is different, but strikingly similar to her own. Despite some minor physical discrepancy she and the woman bears an undeniable likeness, not in the eerily copy a la the Lutece but alike enough that they could passed each other off as close kin. Constants and variables in its most literal definition. Taking two quick strides forward, the woman came to kneel before Elizabeth and placed a palm on her forehead, checking the temperature.

"I guess you'll be fine now," she lowered her hand. "Mr. Master was so worried when he brought you here."

"Mr. Master?" Elizabeth brow rose.

"The big bearded man." Oh, so that was his name. A strange one she admit, but it was good to know who her savior was.

"Where is he?" Elizabeth scanned the room.

"He left a couple of hours ago," the woman shrugged. "Some kind of family emergency, but he sent his regards. He said you were delirious and feverish the entire journey, barely awake most of the time. Glad to see that you're doing a lot better now."

"Oh…" Delirious and feverish? Elizabeth can't recall any sensation of being inflamed by sickness, at most passing out from weariness. She tried concentrating, back to the Doors, the one that opened to the past, only to find blinding jagged memory rushing at her, broken shards of all the doors and its possible variation, flashing static that refused to take coherent form. Those that she saw with absolute clarity were of her time in Columbia and Rapture, clear as a sunny day. Fording through the blinding maelstrom and focusing on what had happened since her resurrection, Elizabeth found only darkness once she lost consciousness on Mr. Master's ship. She tried harder to see but instead got a stabbing migraine for her effort. Eliciting a painful moan, her hands went up to clutch the side of her head, body doubling over in contorted agony.

"Maybe I spoke to soon." The woman observed.

"I'm okay, I just need a moment." Taking a few deep breaths, Elizabeth managed a weak smile as the throbbing receded, a vice loosened from her temples. Blinking, she was startled to find the woman hand extended toward her.

"Eleanor Lamb." Elizabeth was slightly taken aback by the utter neutrality of the statement, void of emotion and coldly professional. The woman, Eleanor, was unreadable and Elizabeth found herself quite uncomfortable with the predicament. She didn't appear to be hostile but by no mean friendly either. Would it be wise to trust her? Churning in the jumble mass of memories, Elizabeth swore she had heard the name Lamb from somewhere before. Worst still, that somewhere happened to be Rapture. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Sally…Its Sally." Elizabeth shook Eleanor's hand, arms bobbing stiffly.

"Sally." Eleanor repeated and Elizabeth could tell she wasn't convinced. "I hope you don't mind Sally, but I'm going to turn on some music, the silence is becoming quite dreary."

"Oh please, go ahead." Elizabeth conjured a sweet smile as Eleanor excused herself, walking behind her to fiddle with some device, a gramophone in all likelihood. Once Eleanor was out of sight, Elizabeth smile crumbled into a worry frown. Something wasn't right with her power that much was clear. It shouldn't have taken that much effort to see behind the doors. The past was a mess but the future was completely severed from her perception. The doors leading to infinity were sealed and she suspected that to pry them open would be incomprehensibly strenuous. Elizabeth supposed she should be used to this feeling of limitation, it was a constant back in Columbia when the siphon was active. Still, it was better than being powerless like in Rapture. The humming power dancing at the tip of her fingers brought back an immense feeling of reassurance, even if it's incomplete. Elizabeth wondered then if she could still create a Tear.

The scratching of sharp needle on vinyl sounded behind her, followed by the cackling distorted sound that preceded the actual record.

 _"_ _See the pyramids along the Nile, watch the sunrise from the tropic isle, just remember darling all the while, you belong to me."_

Elizabeth gasped, ice shot through her veins as she recognized that voice as her own.

You Belong to Me.

The song she sang while masquerading as Cohen's apprentice in her search for the Little Sister smuggling ring. Before she could comprehend the situation Eleanor reappeared and seated herself on the coffee table directly in front of her. The neutrality in those piercing blue eyes so alike her own was gone, in its place a cold glare, sharp and accusing. Elizabeth however, refused to be intimidated and shot Eleanor a stare of her own, defiant and fearless. They both sat unmoving until the last verse came to an end, neither breaking eye contact.

"You have a beautiful voice." Eleanor began as the needle slid off the vinyl.

"Thank you." Elizabeth replied calmly.

"I have to admit that you are quite a convincing liar," Elizabeth eyes narrowed at that statement. "So why don't we begin again with a little dash of honesty this time Miss…" Eleanor waved her hand and a vinyl cover flew into her waiting open palm.

Plasmid.

Rapture brand of genetic miracle.

"You're a splicer." Elizabeth stated bluntly but Eleanor shook her head.

"I don't have any craving for ADAM Ms. Songbird."

"Don't call me that."

"Then what should I call you? Elizabeth?" Eleanor handed her the cover. "At least, that's what it says on the cover, if that's even your real name."

"My name is Elizabeth," she replied lowly, snatching the cover from Eleanor. "Elizabeth DeWitt."

"Be a little careful with that," Eleanor gestured to the cover. "It's priceless, for both material and sentimental reason."

"What are you some kind of collector?" Elizabeth spat venomously, the interrogation charade was getting tiresome.

"No. A survivor," Eleanor continued unfazed. "Like the previous owner of that vinyl. Sally."

Elizabeth gasped, the cover falling away from her trembling hand, caught in mind air and guided to a nearby shelf by Eleanor's telepathic ability. Tears welling in her eyes, Elizabeth placed her hands over trembling lips and began sobbing. Little Sally. She was safe, thank God she was safe.

She was safe…right?

"Is she okay? Do you know her?" Frustration faded to teary pleading, Elizabeth grabbed the dumbfounded Eleanor by her shoulders, shaking it weakly. "Please. Tell me she's okay. Please."

"She's a senior in high school now," Eleanor gave her arms a reassuring squeeze. "Happy and free thanks to you."

"She remembered me?" Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes, dislodging herself from Eleanor who now wore a genuine smile.

"Yes she did." Eleanor nodded. "She remembered everything. How you traded your own life for her…how Atlas let her go only to bludgeon you to death before her eyes."

"Fontaine." Elizabeth corrected. "There was never an Atlas to begin with."

"Frank Fontaine was Atlas? Truly?" Eleanor got off the coffee table and came to sit beside her, seemingly relieved to drop the interrogator role. "After ten bloody years there are still secret buried beneath that place."

"The secret didn't actually help me though." Elizabeth stared ruefully at the floor, shuddering at the memory.

"Look…I'm sorry for being rather rude to you," Eleanor said apologetically. "When Mr. Master carried you here I was quite shock to see someone who was supposed to be dead for a decade still breathing. Quite banged up, but still very much alive." She chuckled dryly then. "Growing up in Rapture can make you very distrustful of others."

"I understand." Elizabeth said. "I'm sorry for calling you a splicer."

"Well I did behave rather brutishly," Eleanor grinned before turning to Elizabeth and cleared her throat. "Let try this again shall we?" Her hand extended once more, lips curving into a petit friendly smile. "Hello, I'm Eleanor Lamb."

"Elizabeth DeWitt." Clasping hands, they shook firmly and cordially this time. "Please to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine." Releasing their grip, the two young woman found themselves sitting in silence, neither knowing how to continue the conversation. Elizabeth then took this opportunity to finally assess Eleanor Lamb, stealing quick careful glances at this enigmatic woman before her. Slender in frame, short black hair, bright azure eyes and a smile tinged with melancholy.

"Are you done checking me over yet?" Eleanor chuckled, noticing her less than subtle spying.

"Sorry." Elizabeth face went bright red, gingerly turning away.

"Found what you were looking for?" She smirked.

"Well…"

"You could've just asked, you know?"

In hindsight, Elizabeth knew she should have done that. "May I?"

Eleanor shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't see why not."

"How did you know Sally? Did you came up with Jack and the other?"

"No. To tell you the truth I've only just met her a year ago," Eleanor smile was sardonic. "Trust me, reunion of former Little Sisters are not cheerful occasion. That was when she gave me the vinyl. After ten years, I think she finally came to term with all that had happened and was ready to let the past laid to rest."

Elizabeth nodded slowly. "You said you've just met her a year ago. Didn't Jack rescue all the Little Sister after he killed Fontaine?"

"He can't save all of us," Eleanor voice took a solemn tone. "The dozen or so he rescued were the lucky ones. So many were left behind to be preyed upon by the remaining splicers population. Or worse…"

"No!" Elizabeth yelled suddenly, stunning Eleanor into silence. "No…he saved them, he put an end to the cycle of violence and…and…" She was choking on her words now, refusing to believe what Eleanor just told her. "He saved them…"

"From what I can gather you died almost a year before Jack arrived in Rapture." Eleanor ventured cautiously, seeing how distressed Elizabeth was becoming. "How did you know Jack was going to come…"

"I saw it." Elizabeth stated bluntly.

"You saw it?" Eleanor sound as convinced as any sane person on Comstock teaching.

"Yes." Elizabeth pressed on, realizing too late that in the heat of the moment she had let slip the existence of her near divine cosmic power.

"…I don't understand."

Elizabeth face darted around with raging indecision before letting out an exasperated groan, palms pressed against her frowning face, the migraine creeping back like a thousand crawling ants. She can't simply tell Eleanor about the Tear, can she? There was no telling how she would react. Incomprehensibility? Unlikely. Eleanor doesn't appear to be the uneducated sort, quite the opposite actually. Unbelieving laughter? Most likely. Nobody is going to take something so fanciful as fact.

But what if Eleanor did believe her?

And worst, what if she saw…uses for her power. What if she knew someone back in Rapture who could have potential need for it?

Gah! That name. Lamb.

Where has she heard it before?

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth look at me," swaying lightly, she turned to see Eleanor giving her a gentle but firm shake. "You have to calm down, okay?"

"Okay…Okay," Elizabeth steadied herself, the needling headache fading. "It's just…you would never believe me."

"Try me."

It took a moment but Elizabeth eventually relented with quick nods. There was something about the Eleanor that put her strangely at ease. Maybe it was the physically, almost sisterly resemblance or the genuine care and concern exuding from her voice. Probably both.

"This isn't a conversation fit for a couch," Eleanor rose to her feet and dusted her jean. "I'm going to boil the kettle, something like this need a tea to sooth the mind. I hope you find Darjeeling agreeable."

"That sound heavenly, thank you." Elizabeth move to rise from the duvet when Eleanor let out a sharp squeak and held out a hand to stop her.

"Just…stay inside the blanket okay?" She stammered quickly. "I'll fetch you some clothes so…don't move."

"Clothes?"

"Well you're not exactly…dressed right now." Eleanor pointed, face reddening as she averted her eyes. Elizabeth followed the finger down and shrieked, crimson bloomed across her cheeks as she drew the duvet tighter around her. Beneath the soft cotton she was bare, naked as the day she was born. Composing herself from the rush of embarrassment, Elizabeth shot Eleanor an accusatory glare.

"You…" She huffed with indignation. "You stripped me?!"

"I had to, I'm sorry!" Eleanor blurted, fidgeting uncomfortably where she stood. "You were soaked to the bones and shivering, it was the only way to stop the hypothermia from setting in. Besides, it's not like those rags you got on were doing you any good to begin with."

"How indecent!" Elizabeth announced before calming down, scarlet paling to pink. "But…thank you."

"It's quite alright." Eleanor said timidly.

"And where are my belongings now?" Elizabeth inquired, hand ghosting over her neck where the bird brooch should be. Booker had chosen it for her, a gift from her only friend, the only person that had ever shown her any smidgen of kindness. It wasn't simply a reminder of the man that would sacrificed his own life to save her, but that goodness, no matter how fleeting, still exists in this world. She would be devastated if in was lost at sea, sinking back to rot with Rapture.

"It's safe," Eleanor reassured her. "Your brooch is in the bedroom and your clothes is drying out back."

"Thank you," Elizabeth heaved a relief sigh, "but umm….clothes and tea?"

"Right! Clothes and tea, I'll be right back." With that Eleanor bolted into another room, returning a moment later with a blue shirt and gray trouser, the fabric warm and surprisingly soft to the touch.

"The bathroom is down the hall," Eleanor ushered her to an open door nearby. "The tea should be ready by the time you're done."

"Okay." Wrapping the duvet tight around her chest, Elizabeth made a quick dash toward the open door, flicked on the light and proceed to try on the new, unfamiliar attire. 

* * *

It felt strange to wear a trouser, back in Columbia it was highly inappropriate and downright scandalous for a woman to be seen wearing men's clothing. And although Rapture pride itself as a utopia free from old world dogma, the concept of switching gender-ware was still perceived as an abnormality. Even though Elizabeth herself preferred skirts, she can't denied that the soft cotton material of the trouser, sport pants as Eleanor called it, was extremely comfortable. The blue shirt might be a little loose on her, but it felt a lot less restricting than what she wore in Rapture.

The two women was now sat facing each other at a small, round dining table, a steaming kettle between them, and a warm cup in their hands. It started awkwardly at first, with Elizabeth fumbling with how to begin before finding the correct words to convey her life story.

Her kidnap at the hand of Comstock, her imprisonment, the Lutece, Booker coming to her rescue, her powers, everything came rushing out like a broken damn. Eleanor listened intently to her tale, no hint of amusement or condescension, more than a few time venturing forth with a question of her own. The muted light of the sun was fading to a dull grey when Elizabeth's story came to an end with her handing Atlas the Ace in the Hole, the death blow and her resurrection.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through such a horrible ordeal Elizabeth," Eleanor said remorsefully. "You of all people didn't deserve any of that."

"Thank you." Elizabeth gave a tired smile.

"So, umm…these Tears," Eleanor changed the subject. "They start showing up in Rapture when you arrived from Columbia, so that make you a sort of conduit for the phenomena."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Eleanor looked thoughtful for a moment. "If recalled correctly I think I saw one of those Tear down at Persephone once. I was so ecstatic to finally see a real sky, but the thing just vanished as I was reaching for it. I was so disappointed." A dark gloom came over her visage then, drawing a concern look from Elizabeth. "Father and I promised each other that one day we will walk amongst the sun. Guess half of it came true."

"Your father?" That piqued Elizabeth interest.

"He's a Big Daddy." Eleanor continued. "Subject Delta."

"Oh."

Eleanor finished her cup, wave the kettle over and pour herself another cupful before gesturing to Elizabeth, "Refills?"

"Yes please." With a flick of her finger the kettle slid toward Elizabeth, skidding to a stop before her. Although it was clear Eleanor was anything but a splicer, she still wasn't used to seeing Plasmid being applied in such carefree way. Pouring the warm tea into her cup, Elizabeth waited as Eleanor took small, silent sip, her face drawn into deep contemplation before finally speaking: "I think that it is only fair that I now share with you my story."

"If you're uncomfortable then I won't pry." Elizabeth wasn't completely honest but still she find it prudent to say so.

"I have to share this with someone eventually, a resurrected near omniscience lady seems like a good start," they both laughed at that, a short respite before solemnity returns. "Are you familiar with the name Sofia Lamb?"

That did the trick. The scatter pieces of memory formed and bind as Elizabeth now recognized the name. Sofia Lamb, the esteem psychiatrist, one of Rapture Elites among the likes of Andrew Ryan, Brigid Tenenbaum and Yi Suchong.

"Are you…related?" Elizabeth tried not to sound suspicious, Eleanor did nothing to deserve the skepticism but the fact that she shared a last name with one of Rapture most prominent player was putting her slightly on edge.

Eleanor didn't respond immediately, her eyes lost in the rising wisps of steam, tense and searching, her grip visibly tightening on the ceramic cup. After a moment, she gave a weary sigh before saying: "She…was my mother."

"…Oh." Was all Elizabeth could managed as Eleanor began her tale.

Born to fulfill an unwanted role of a messiah, kept in isolation from the world, sold into an orphanage to be turned into a Little Sister by a traitorous confidant of her mother and bonded with a Big Daddy who loved her as a real daughter, only to witness him die by the hand of Sofia Lamb herself.

Her Little Sister condition was then reversed but the accursed sea slug remain latched to her body. To make matters worse, the parasitic gastropod had made her more susceptible to Sofia Lamb experimentation. Injected with lethal dosage of ADAM, she was subjected to an unspeakable tortuous experiment that seeks to turn her in what Sofia Lamb called 'The First Utopian', a living vessel for Rapture's collective consciousness.

But she endured.

By God did she endured, and plotted, and waited, and after ten long years she put her plan to escape into motion.

Elizabeth was captivated by how Eleanor managed to accomplish so much while still in imprisonment, the most impressive of all was resurrecting Subject Delta and guided him to her rescue. Well, Tenenbaum did helped along the way, but it was still very impressive nonetheless. After a hard fought battle through the crumbling remains of Rapture and facing herculean tribulation, one involving Sofia stopping Eleanor's heart by smothering her with a pillow to momentarily sedate Delta, she successfully boarded a bathysphere that send them shooting to the surface. But Delta, the brave and selfless Big Daddy, wasn't able to bask in the dawn of victory with his daughter.

"He…didn't survive," Eleanor sniffed, eyes simmered with tears. "The blast was too much for him to bear."

"Eleanor I'm so sorry." Elizabeth's hand reached over the small table and gave Eleanor a reassuring squeeze, her own vision tearing up. The crushing feeling of loss, the bittersweet taste of victory was all too familiar to her. It was a story so alike her own, the beginning, middle and end bearing such a shocking similarity that transcended the random whim of chance. There will always be a man, a girl and a lighthouse; a father, a daughter and a city. A tragedy and pain Elizabeth knew all too well. And to see another suffered as she did was heartbreaking.

"Thank you." Eleanor wiped the wet streak from her cheek. "But he isn't truly gone you see. He allowed me to absorb his essence, now his conscious and drives courses through my veins, always guiding, always ever watchful."

"Does he speak to you?" Like the fragment of her mind taking the form of Booker. Come to think of it she hasn't seen it yet since her resurrection, all for the best she supposed.

"Well...he's not exactly a talkative type," she managed a weak smile. "But he speaks to me during my most vulnerable. Calming me down when the world seemed most unbearable, a soothing breeze breaking apart the storm."

"What happened to your mother?" Elizabeth felt her mood darkening at the mention of Sofia Lamb. How could she have put her own biological daughter through such inhumane treatment? She saw Eleanor as nothing more than an object to fulfillment her own sick, selfish goal. And here she thought no one could possibly be worse than Comstock.

"Father had taught me that mercy is victory, so when I found mother drowning when we were careening toward the surface, I gave her an oxygen tank."

"You spared her?" Elizabeth couldn't contained her surprise. "After everything she did to you?"

"Everyone deserves mercy," there was a thin veil of regret in her response. "The door to redemption must be left open to even the most broken of us, a chance to start anew."

"Some evil can never be washed away. Mercy isn't something you just give away."

The glare Eleanor shot her way was stern and judgmental. Elizabeth couldn't help but feel a tad miffed when the gaze softened to disappointment, the young woman giving her a look of utter pity like a mother would when a child misbehaved. Only she was supposed to be the adult here.

"If it isn't given freely then it isn't mercy, to be selective is to null what pure altruistic value it entails," Elizabeth pouted harder as Eleanor continued. "You've chosen the opposite path before, that didn't end well for you now did it?"

Her eyes shot opened at that statement, face reddened with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"That's…that's different!" Elizabeth stammered fitfully. "Comstock didn't deserve any mercy, none of them did. For every Anna he had stolen and the one that he killed…h-he, they, can't be forgiven."

Elizabeth knew that whatever rationale she conjured, no matter how reasonable and sound, deep down she knew nothing could justified her action taken against the last Comstock. She was so angry, consumed by the burning singular hatred of the man that had killed Anna. From that point on, nothing but his absolute destruction could seemingly satiated her. And in her mad obsession, she was willing to harm an innocent. Oh Sally, dear Sally. For what she did, could she really say she was Comstock's better?

"I'm sorry." Now it was Eleanor hand reaching out to Elizabeth's own. "I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's okay," she heaved a sigh and shook her head. "You were right though."

"That's beside the point. I should have been more considerate after everything you told me." Eleanor stared guiltily into her cup. "Can't keep my bloody mouth shut sometime."

"I'll be alright, really, don't worry," Elizabeth gave a reassuring smile before glancing warily over Eleanor's shoulder. "…your mother isn't around is she?"

The younger woman chuckled at that. "No, of course not."

"Would have been really awkward if that was the case," she joined in the petit giggles. "But then where is she? If you don't mind me asking."

Eleanor stiffened then, laughter dying as she shuffled in her seat nervously. "Mother had always been…um…uncompromising when it comes to her belief," she took a quick swing, "despite everything, she never learnt from her mistake and was more than ready to repeat it."

"She planned to bring her teaching up to the surface?"

"Most likely, yes. That was why Brigid and I had to make sure that mother is dissuaded from such action permanently."

Elizabeth went still, breath caught in her throat, mind racing to find the correct response that would confirm what Eleanor just admitted to committing. But alas, she blurted the words before she could stop herself. "You killed her?"

There was a long drawn silent between them, Eleanor was still while Elizabeth can't help but stare at her with bulging expectation. Then she snorted, followed by a wicked grin cutting across her face in a restrained display of hilarity.

"I didn't kill her Elizabeth."

Sinking back into her seat, Elizabeth heaved a heavy gust in relief, taking a long draw at her tea, the warmth washing away the frightful chill. And all the while Eleanor just waited, smirking and stifling any strayed remnant laughs.

"That wasn't funny." Elizabeth eyed her darkly.

"Your reaction certainly was, but for the actual subject…not so much." As if suddenly remembering what they were talking about, Eleanor last trace of amusement faded to heavy brooding.

"Brigid and I decided to have her institutionalized." She said after a few seconds, guilt clawing at her visage, digging deep.

What did the Orient called it? Karma? Yes, that was it. Karma. Personally she found it laughably ironic. A karmic irony it is then. A renowned psychiatrist, unparalleled in her field now finds herself the patient, not the doctor. A cruel fate, but an agreeable substitute to death. Elizabeth shivered. The memory of those six months of torture in Comstock's House stirring pangs of ghostly pain across her body. The thought of the esteemed Sofia Lamb going through the same 'mental therapy' didn't sit well with her, despite how she originally felt about Eleanor's mother. She took another sip, the tea calming the shudder nicely enough.

"Not exactly mercy is it?" She said softly.

"She's alive and is being cared for," Eleanor shrugged in surrender, back slouching into her chair. "Mother would never forgive me. But it was either that or let her create a new nightmare here on the surface. I guess I'll just have to live with that decision."

Elizabeth just nodded as no more words parted, only the slow tapping of Eleanor fingers on the cup.

"So…" Eleanor began after a while. "This power of yours, you can use it to go anywhere?"

"Yes." Elizabeth looked up, glad that the conversation was veering toward a less morbid topic.

"And you can take any object from existing paralleling universe at a whim?"

"Yes I can." She felt a smile teasing her lips, the enthusiasm in Eleanor's tone was a refreshing change from the apprehensive and exploitive reaction that came with the mention of her power.

"Can you show me?"

Elizabeth looked down at her fingers and gave them a quick wiggle.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I want to show you and everything, but after coming out of the Vita-chamber, it's been kind of, well, erratic."

"That's a shame." Eleanor sighed.

"But that doesn't mean I can't try." She got to her feet and headed toward the door, waving the younger woman to follow. "Come on. Don't want to destroy your house by accident."

Eleanor taking the lead, they stepped out to the cold wooden porch, chilly wind brushed over the two women as they descended the short flight of stair to a messy lawn strewed with fallen autumn leaves. The sun was a weak pulsing grey sheathed in thick rumbling cloud as it slowly surrendered to the approaching dusk, the world becoming a ghostly monochrome similar to that of a kinetoscope.

"Should be a good enough place," Eleanor ushered her to a clearing. "The stage's yours."

Gulping nervously, Elizabeth took a deep breath and step forward, nervous and shaking like a performer with a very bad case of stage fright, and to an audience of one no less.

Can she still do it? Would it be as simple as before?

So far she knew the entirety of her power didn't returned with her second resurrection, and there was no telling how much she had retained. The simmering static object that doesn't belong, those she can still see. A distortion of overlapping reality, something that exist, existed and will exist that she could make manifest on this reality.

There, on the lawn standing beside the expectant looking Eleanor, too focused on Elizabeth to notice the quantum anomaly, was a Tear of a statue the shape of a bearded man with a pointy hat.

Oh well, baby steps it is then.

Turning, Elizabeth's reached out toward the Tear, clenched her open palm into a fist, felt the surging electrical sensation and pulled. Blinding white flooded her vision for less than a second before the gray landscape returned, and behold, standing next to Eleanor was the small comical figurine. Scratching her vision clear of the pulsing glare, Eleanor cast a confuse look at the smirking Elizabeth before following the pointed finger down to her knee. Hands rose to cover her loud yelp, Eleanor gawked at the object that surely wasn't there moments ago. Kneeling, she gave it a few good knock, the very tangible ceramic clanging brought a smile to her face.

"What is that?" Herself curious, Elizabeth came to stand beside Eleanor to get a better look at the strange effigy.

"It's a Gnome." Eleanor stood up. "Some people use them to decorate their lawn, apparently it's supposed to be amusing."

"…I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Eleanor gave the gnome a playful nudge with her feet before turning back to Elizabeth, giddy with excitement now. "What about the one that can take you anywhere you want?"

"That's a little more difficult," Elizabeth said hesitantly. "I need to open an entirely new Tear for that. It's a lot more taxing than simply pulling something through."

"I see."

"Besides, I need to know the destination before I can open a Tear."

Eleanor stroked her chin thoughtfully for a moment before snapping her fingers. "You seemed pretty enamored by Paris, why not go there?"

In hindsight that should have been the first place that comes to mind. Yet Elizabeth was still apprehensive. "I…don't know if I can…"

"No harm in trying." She was right of course, and it would be a lot better to see what remained of her power rather than just worry about it.

"Okay." Turning around, Elizabeth strode back to the field and concentrated, conjuring all the images of Paris that she had seen and read. The beautiful buildings by the Seine, the shinning Eiffel Tower, the grand boulevards lined with falling leaves, the soothing ambient of summer serenade. A smile teased her lips, the mere thought of the one place she wanted most to go fueling her confidence. Raising both hands toward the empty air, Elizabeth bend her fingers into a claw and, with the destination seared clearly into her mind, began parting the veil of reality.

She had almost forgotten the surge of power. The raw cosmic invigoration coursing through every fiber of her being was both exciting and exerting at the same time, every moment of elation anchored by physical fragility. It yielded slowly, but soon enough the white scar began materializing. First it was a slit, then it widened into an open laceration that grew with each passing second. Teeth gritted and muscle straining from the effort, Elizabeth roared as she flung her arms apart, plunging the world into absolute glaring white. When the darken shade of grey returned, a large semi-circle arc of static had materialized before her, and beyond that archway was a sight she had always dreamt of seeing.

Paris.

Taking a good gander at her surrounding, Elizabeth deducted that the Tear had opened up at a walkway beside the Seine, lamp post lighting the starless night. Looming over the gently flowing river she could see the outline of Notre Dame, solemn bell chiming its hourly call. This was it, she can finally go to Paris, free of guilt to start anew and to do…to do…what?

She felt weak, light headed even, what was once as simple as a flicking her finger was now a mental and physical equivalent of a marathon. And as she gazed into that most desired destination, a realization struck her like a battering ram.

"What do I do now?"

That simple phrase should elicit thrill and excitement for a future that one could seized, but Elizabeth felt the opposite. She was scared. Columbia and Rapture had irrevocably scarred her. The joyous sense of innocent curiosity was now twisted into a frightful suspicious of every lurking shadow, seeing only the rot beneath every smiles and glamour.

And she was alone.

By quantum technicality she doesn't exist in this universe, a lone survivor from a reality destroyed by her very own hands, the last fragment of a shattered glass drifting in the void, aimless and purposeless.

Alone.

No friends, no family. Nothing but crushing solitude.

It was too much for Elizabeth to bear.

With a shaky wave of hand the Tears contracted and closed with little effort. Elizabeth didn't move. Eyes downcast, she wrapped her arms around her chest, breaths coming in quick gasps, hot tears welled her vision. Sensing that something was wrong, Eleanor took careful step toward the quivering Elizabeth, alarmed by the sudden shift in temperament.

"Elizabeth what's wrong?" She didn't answer, shrugging off Eleanor reaching hand before rushing back toward the house, sobbing with every wavering step. Elizabeth managed to stagger inside before every bones and muscles surrendered to despair, her knees crumbled and she fell to the wooden floor, weeping in anguish.

"Oh my God, Elizabeth!" Grabbing her by the shoulder, Eleanor hefted Elizabeth up with surprising ease and guided her back to the sofa, the dying embers in the fireplace flaring to life with a burst of the Incinerate Plasmid, warmth washing over her.

"I shouldn't have asked you to open the Tears," Eleanor was beside her in an instant, soft soothing hand stroking her back, "if I had known that your power could cause this much stress then I would never have…"

"No." Elizabeth sniffed. "It's not the Tear."

Flicking her fingers, a box of tissue flew into Eleanor's waiting palm before handing it over to Elizabeth, she took a strip and wiped her eyes, nodding a thanks.

"Talk to me Elizabeth," Eleanor placed the box on the coffee table. "What happened?"

"It's just…I…" Elizabeth didn't know how to begin. "I can't. I just can't"

Despite her confusion, Eleanor pressed on. "I don't understand. Paris was right there, why didn't you just step through? Start a new life and…"

"And what?!" She shouted at Eleanor, burning anguish cascading down her cheeks. "What would I do when I get to Paris? Huh? Start a new life? Become dainty mademoiselle and find myself a prince charming?" Taking deep hot breathe Elizabeth continued louder. "You think people would just welcome me? Help the lost teary eyed little girl like some stray puppy? I am nothing but a fool that thought there was a happier world outside my tower. Now I want nothing more than to crawl back into the safety of my cage."

"You can't really mean that." Eleanor eyes darkened on her.

"Can't I?" Elizabeth shot back. "I've always been alone, no friends or families, just people who wanted to use me. It doesn't matter if I was inside or outside the cage, I'll die alone regardless. No one to mourn or remember me, just another ghost finally joining their kin in the afterlife."

Eleanor didn't speak.

"Going to Paris wouldn't do me any good now." Elizabeth continued. "I don't know what to do. When I was in Rapture I had a purpose, a bad one admittedly, but a purpose nonetheless. I never thought about what comes after that. Even when I was omniscient I never looked beyond to see what kind of future lies ahead. Now I can't see anything again, and the last time that happened…" Her shoulders sagged, a forlorn capitulation. "I'm scared Eleanor. I don't know what to do and I'm afraid of being alone again." She paused, mouth moving empty of sound as she searched for the correct word. "I don't know how to live."

Elizabeth shook with every syllabus, not having the courage to face Eleanor. She must have looked pathetic. A rambling, wailing ingrate who would readily snapped at someone who had shown her nothing but care and patience. She wouldn't blame Eleanor in the least if she threw her out right this second.

Instead a pair of hands reached over to grab her shoulders and before Elizabeth could react, pulled her into an embrace. She started crying again, face buried into Eleanor shoulder as she returned the hug, holding her awkwardly, not familiar with such intimacy. It was only when they finally broke apart that Elizabeth realized Eleanor was also crying, little wet stream snaking a damp trail down her face.

"Look what you made me do." Eleanor summoned a smile and wiped her face.

"I'm sorry I yelled," Elizabeth said guilty. "I was a jerk, you were only trying to help."

Eleanor just nodded as they sat together in silence, basking in the roaring fire that banished the creeping chill pouring in through the open door.

"Stay." Eleanor spoke suddenly.

"What?" Elizabeth turn, startled by the announcement.

"If you want, you can stay with me."

"I can't impose. You're a good person Eleanor and I don't want to take advantage of you like that."

"You won't. I'm offering you to stay."

"I'll only be a burden."

"Trust me, you won't."

"Thank you Eleanor, truly. But it would be too selfish of me if I take up your offer," Elizabeth sank back into the couch with a disappointed sigh, deep down she truly wanted to stay but that wouldn't be fair for Eleanor, and it wouldn't be proper for two young ladies to share an abode. "You deserve a good life without having a broken woman hanging around to dampen everything."

"Elizabeth you need to stop hurting yourself like this," Eleanor spun to face her, stern yet caring. "We are both broken. Dolls maimed and gutted by callous hands for purpose neither of us believed in or consented to. We are both broken, yet these scars carved deep into our skin will heal. It is a long and difficult journey that no one should ever face alone."

Tears drying, Elizabeth didn't make a sound as Eleanor continued.

"There is nothing I can do if your mind is made up, but I will not be able to forgive myself if I didn't at least offered to help. Wound heals faster if others are there to help shoulder the pain, and that is a responsibility I am more than willing to bear. So please, let me help."

It was near impossible to argue with her. Beside the solid logic and reasoning, Elizabeth can't remember the last time such earnest sincerity was spoken to her. Elizabeth was many things but a fool she was not, and the answer to the proposition came quick and clear.

"Okay." Her voice was hoarse at first, but after a few quick reaffirming nods she spoke again with confidence and clarity. "I think I'll stay. If you would have me, that is."

Eleanor appeared on the verge of leaping in for another hug but managed to compose herself at the last second. Instead she cleared her throat and smiled. "I would love for you to stay."

"It would be highly…unorthodox though." Elizabeth added timidly.

Eleanor scoffed at that. "If this was 1912 then maybe, but its 1969, things are a little bit different now." Waving her hand the opened door swung shut, the chill subsiding almost immediately. "Things are different, yet not much better than the world of sea and sky we came from."

"Oh." That was a little disheartening to hear.

"But it's getting better…I think." Eleanor added hesitantly before getting up. "Are you feeling better now? Do you need anything? Aspirin, anti-depressant?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "I think I'll be fine now."

Rising, she reached out her hand and grabbed the young woman wrist. "Thank you Eleanor."

"Kindness is given freely, remember?"

"Still, I'll find a way to repay you somehow."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to think of something."

"Don't worry, I'm quite creative." Elizabeth let go of Eleanor wrist. "So…what now?"

"Well, it's almost seven. Have you eaten anything after, you know, exiting the Vita-chamber?"

An embarrassingly loud growl of her stomach answered that query, she hated her body sometime. Come to think of it she can't recall having eaten anything since her resurrection.

"I see." Eleanor vain attempt at masking her laughter only made Elizabeth turn a brighter shade. "You might be desperate enough to actually endure my cooking."

"Well, I am pretty famished," Elizabeth composed herself. "So what's on the menu?"

Eleanor went over to an overhead cabinet in the kitchen and took out a food carton, gave it a good shake and read the label. "How does macaroni sound?"

"Delicious." Anything sounds good right now. Hell, give her a runny stew with an ADAM slug in it and she would eat it.

"Do you need any help?" Elizabeth strode over to the kitchen.

"Can you cook?" Eleanor sounded almost pleading as she open the carton.

"Well, I've read a few cook books back in the tower." Truth be told she'd never cooked anything in her life, even during her short stint in Rapture she visited a diner every time she needed nourishment, the stove in her apartment left neglected and collecting dust. "It can't be that hard right?"

"Trust me, the complexity of the culinary art rival that of any field of science," Eleanor gave a nervous laugh, rummaging through the cabinets before taking out an iron saucepot. "All the greatest minds in Rapture spliced into me and none of those sorry sods knew how to boil an egg. It's bloody disgraceful."

"Guess the best way to learn is to actually do it," Elizabeth said before taking the saucepot from Eleanor, lurching slightly at the sudden added weight. How strong was this girl? "So what do we do?"

"According to the instruction just filled the pot with water, add the ingredient, set the stove to high and stir for ten minutes," Eleanor read. "Sound simple enough."

Placing the pot in the sink, Elizabeth turned the tap and watched as water began filling inside. Gazing into the rippling, foaming wave, Elizabeth felt something she thought lost in the ruins of Columbia and Rapture.

Peace.

It's funny how the little things taken for granted by many can calm her tumulus temperament. And in that moment of serenity came clarity. The unknown future didn't seem so frightening anymore, roads and path beckoning to be discover now that she was freed of the hellish cycle of violence. Every new dawn was hers to bask in its splendor, to truly live and explore. And she wasn't alone anymore. The Daughter of Rapture and the Lamb of Columbia, what a duo they make.

"Umm Elizabeth?" Eleanor voice pulled her from the ravine of contemplation. "I think the pot maybe full?"

"Huh? Oh!" Turning off the tap, she tipped the pot and emptied the excess water before straining to lift it to the stove a couple of inches to her left.

"Here, let me." Eleanor offered.

"No, no, I got this." With some difficulty, Elizabeth managed to place the sloshing pot on to the cold burner grate.

"You're stronger than you look."

"Thank you." Elizabeth huffed triumphantly as she stared at the assemble component needed to begin cooking their meal, only to come to a very startling revelation. She haven't the faintest clue how to cook. With a silly, bashful grin on her face Elizabeth turned to face Eleanor, knowing that there was no way of escaping this predicament without bruising her dignity and asked:

"How do I turn on the stove?" 

* * *

"Well this was certainly unexpected." Rosalind observed, hidden beneath the swaying canopy of pines a good distant away from the abode of the two lambs, the sharp rise granting a clear panorama of the cottage and the surrounding area.

"A most fortunate deviation from the expected path." Robert added from her side.

"It'll make looking after them both a lot easier," the Master found himself smiling at this turn of event. "I actually thought they were going to say goodbye when the Tear opened."

"Seems like Ms. DeWitt desire companionship." Robert commented.

"Don't we all." Rosalind responded.

"A role Ms. Lamb seemed more than willing to fill."

"They are mirror image of each other after all. It is not surprising that the both of them would feel a certain bond and affinity toward each other."

"Who better then to help her through the turbulent future other than a tragedienne of equal caliber."

"Kind of makes you wonder doesn't it dear brother."

"About what dear sister?"

"Of how she perceived us. We are alike her in many ways and had on many occasion aided her, it left me quite perplex on how she found Ms. Lamb more relatable."

"Yeah, well, you two are more like those two annoying cousins that always shows up when shits really hit the fan while being absolutely selective when it comes to the 'help' you provide," the Master grinned, ignoring the combined glare the Lutece shot his way. "What will you do now?"

"The anomaly we mentioned earlier still need investigating." Robert spoke. "Which would keep us occupy for the foreseeable future. Ms. DeWitt can take solace in knowing that we would not be intervening in her affair for a while."

"You going to tell me what that anomaly is now?"

"After that rude comment I think we will keep it to ourselves, thank you very much." There was a slight satisfaction in Rosalind tone, the Master just smirk at her.

"Just let me know when things got out of hand, as they always do." The Master reached into his pocket and withdrew his vibrating iPhone, unlocking it with a swipe of his large thumb.

"Such an interesting device." Robert showed interest in Apple latest model.

"Needlessly frivolous." Rosalind brushed him off.

"Welp, this is turning out to be a very good day for the cosmos." The Master walked back toward the inconspicuous portal leading back to his starry sanctuary, his thumbs mashing the screen as he type the reply.

"And why would that be?" Rosalind summoned a Tear for her and Robert.

"Two of my boys just did the impossible." He was almost cackling as he speak.

"Pray tell, what have they just accomplished?"

"They just took back a planet that had been contested for almost a century." The Master mash the send button. "The first step toward total victory!" He stepped through the portal and waved the Lutece goodbye. "For the Emperor!" The portal disappeared with a blink, leaving behind the stilled, wide eyed Lutece twins trying to grasp the meaning of the Master's words.

"A war of planets." Robert mused as he stepped through the Tear. "Now that is something I would really love to see."

"Not now dear brother." Rosalind came to stand at his side. "We have work to do."

And with that the Tear closed, leaving only nature's nocturne and the giggling of two very happy lambs.


	6. Hope for the Best, Prepare for the Worst

**_Flashback complete, returning to Anno Domini 2015. Second Millennium._**

* * *

"Oh my God dude, that was so beautiful," Damien dramatically wiped a nonexistence tear from his eyes, lips quivering to the very audible groaning of the four girls. "I'm so glad she finally got a happy ending."

"Yeah! Suck it Ken Levine!" Henry joined in, corna pumping in the air.

"And so the two brave little lambs found a new home and they lived happily ever after," Tangmo did his best at imitating Julie Andrew before returning to his normal voice. "Something went very wrong, didn't it."

"No." The Master said. "Something is about to go very wrong. There's a big difference."

"Well that us make feel a lot better." Only an idiot, or captain Carrot, would've missed Erik less that subtle sarcasm.

"So what happened?" Lita inquired. "Or rather, what is about to happen?"

"Observe." The Master waved his hand over the round table, the center opening to reveal a curved spotless lens that began projecting a high resolution hologram of earth. In dazzling 4k and 60 frame rate per second too.

"This is the Bioshock universe during the best of time," the Master pointed to the hovering globe. "Well, the one that Elizabeth and Eleanor now lives on that is."

"Seems pretty normal." Yuki commented, noting the pristine condition of the rotating sphere.

"Ahem, best of time?" Hands weaving over the empty air, the Master zoomed onto a single point on the high-definition globe, the geography folding out to show an isometric view of a quaint seaside East Coast town, Mercy Falls obviously, and the surrounding country side. More movement of the hands and the computer generate imagery shifted to a side view, like that of a side-scrolling video game, the landmass taking centerfold between the rippling sea at the bottom and rolling sky at the top. The Master snapped his finger and red mist materialized among the non-terrestrial mass, tiny bloodshot dots in swarming multitude pulsing, churning and growing. It took Tangmo a moment to see that the swarm seems to be gravitating toward the town.

"This is the current status of the Bioshock universe, a year after Elizabeth was resurrected."

"Well that look dreadful." Laura spoke.

"What hell are those red thingy?" Nikki added.

With a swipe of hands the hologram showed two wound like laceration where the mist poured out like blood.

"It's Rapture and Columbia." Predictably, the announcement was met with confusion and disbelief.

"Rapture is dead, or at the very least in its terminal stage," Henry spoke through the din of clashing theory and possibility, "and Columbia, along with all of its variation, no longer exists."

"That was what I thought," the Master shook his head. "Everything should have been over at this point, Rapture crumbling to the depth of the Atlantic and Columbia fazing from existence. But it didn't." He sighed, feature darkening visibly. "So this was the anomaly the Lutece been hinting about."

"How is that even possible?" Lita raised a hand.

"Could Columbia actually survive the pan-dimension purge?" Erik added.

"There are infinite numbers of Columbia right? Could…I don't know, little surviving fragments of those universes somehow manages to recombine with each other? The odds of something surviving in the dark void exist, for every ten variation destroy in totality maybe a speck of one survived. And these singular ones might somehow manage to latch on to each other to make themselves whole again?" Nikki voice trailed off into a nervous stammer once she realized all eyes in the room were trained on her. She hated when that happen, especially when she's spitballing. "Look, I'm just throwing this out there okay? Just an idea, nothing more"

"That's actually the best theory we have going right now, nice one love." Laura gave her a reassuring tap on the shoulder, even the Master looked impressed. "Still doesn't explain Rapture's sudden resurgence though."

"Sofia got loose didn't she?" Yuki hazarded a guess, turning directly to the Master.

"I wouldn't know, I'm not the one checking up on her wellbeing," he raised his hands apologetically. "That's Brigid's job."

"Yeah, but we kinda established that Rapture was dying? How could it amassed this much disturbance?" Laura spoke up.

Yuki just shrugged. "I haven't thought that far yet."

"Maybe she stumble on a Tear and decided to ask for help?"

"Pretty much what I was thinking."

"None of it matters now," Tangmo's voice cut through Yuki and Laura banter as he strikes a rather impressive Gendo pose, the only thing missing was an intimidating pair of glass. "The how and why can be discuss once the roaring of guns and the shriek of the dying fell silent. All I want to know now is how do we stop it."

"Tangmo's right." The Master announced. "We can figure all of this when the breach is close."

"A little too dramatic don't you think?" Henry turned to Tangmo who had disengaged his pose and was slouching back into his chair.

"Hey man, that's how I roll," he said proudly. "How did I do though?"

Henry gave a few contemplating nods, right hand rolling in sync. "Yeah…I'll admit it sounded grimly cool. Needed the hat though."

"You're still not Shakespeare." Yuki quipped.

"Not trying to be," Tangmo smirked before turning back to the Master. "So how the hell do we fix this?"

"Before any repair can be done, we need to make sure that Elizabeth and Eleanor are relocated to a secure location," now it was the Master turn to do the Gendo pose. "As you can see from the display, whatever is coming of the breach is gravitating toward them."

"This pretty much reinforces the theory that whoever is creating and directing these breaches are familiar with both the Bioshock lambs." Yuki added.

"However, the breach is not the only problem we are facing." The Master sighed, brow furrowing as he massaged his temples.

"That's never a good sign." Erik commented.

"No it isn't." The Master began, hard eyes sweeping over the Eight, hammering the severity of the situation home.

"Thanks to the impeccable writing of Bioshock Infinite and its DLCs, the whole infinite quantum reality thing had inadvertently made this particular universe more susceptible to possible infection from foreign organism not native to their own reality." He took a deep breath before continuing. "To make matter worse, the constant usage of Tear by Elizabeth and the Lutece had severely weakened the shield that preserved the universe singularity. The barrier around the Bioshock universe has deteriorated to the point where essences from other realities are leaking through, creating Tears for things that most definitely doesn't belong."

"So how bad are things looking?" Erik interrupted. "Should we be expecting zombies and Cazador running around trying to kill Elizabeth and Eleanor?"

"It's not that bad yet, I caught the breach early on," finally some good news. "But if Elizabeth did found a Tear of such nature then she can pulled them into the Bioshock universe. Pray to the gods that she have enough commonsense not to open strange Tears."

"Hey! Things aren't looking so bad after all!" The unchanging granite visage of the Master says otherwise, deflating Erik's bubbly optimism before it could even take shape. "Oh shit that wasn't the bad part was it?"

Nodding with no small amount of condescension, the Master continues. "The barrier between each reality is like a door, the thing swing both ways. Sooner or later, something else beyond the void will take notice. And like locusts they will descend upon the Bioshock universe and reaps it to the bones."

"Hey come on now, those Plasmids and Vigor pack quite a punch though," Damien ventured. "It's not like the Bioshock universe is defenseless, quite the opposite in fact, I'm sure they can hold their own."

The Master looked caught between laughter and abject disbelief, face contorting like clay trying to convey both emotes at the same time. Tangmo facepalm and shook his head. He knew how much Damien and Henry adored, to put it lightly, the Bioshock franchise but goddamn to suggest that it could hold a candle against anything beyond the comfort of their own reality was downright stupid. At least Henry didn't embarrassed himself, keeping his mouth shut and gingerly sinking into his seat.

"Would you kindly stopping being a fanboy?" The Master rolled his eyes exasperatedly and Damien just glared and grumbled in his seat like a child put in a time out with a big dunce cone on his head.

"Now, as I was saying," the Master feature darkened with a low inclination of his head, casting a dramatic shadow over his stony face. "Imagine something as powerful and addictive as ADAM slipping into other unsuspecting universe. Forget the genre, fantasy, sci-fi, noir, realistic, classical, it doesn't matter. This genetic equivalent of a coked up steroid wouldn't just irrevocably alter the canon but also brought about the same misery and madness that destroyed Rapture."

He chuckled lowly.

"The damn thing could even rival the Arrakis Spice trade and black market Neuropozyne in terms of demands and epidemic. And that was the best case scenario by the way. Now imagine if someone, say…a couple of megalomaniac dark lords, happens to catch wind of an out worldly elixir that could potentially increase the battle capability of their army. All they had to do was to swing open The Door of Night to find the static lighthouse, shinning with beckoning glee to weapons that will end worlds."

Repulsive, crushing silence reigned for a few minutes before the Master continues: "Not to mention that if whoever is leading the resurrected Rapture and Columbia, Sofia and Comstock in all likelihood, decide to get ambitious and venture into other reality, they could raise all kinds of hell before we can contain the situation."

"All right, we get it. Massive amount of bad shit is about to happen." Henry held his hands in surrender, the point driven home, deep.

But the Master wasn't finished, turning to regard the American with a sharp vicious look, like those of a wolf about to pounce its prey.

"And you know what else could happen?" The overly innocence tone was more horrifying than the howling of Banshees. "The Lutece Twin meeting the Changer of Ways." The room exploded in spluttering panic, the Eight trading each other visage of dreaded disbelief, knowing what kind of Armageddon such abominable convergence could unleashed.

"And we're all sitting here wasting our time listening to you instead of going out there and killing the twins." Yuki proclaimed, suddenly finding herself tired of the boogeyman threat and scares. The other nodding in agreement.

"Point us the way and we'll get it done." Tangmo backed her up.

"I just found it prudent to remind you the severity of the entire situation," the Master shrugged snidely. "The last time something of this magnitude happened your predecessor sure as hell didn't."

"Do we look like we don't give a fuck?!" Damien blurted, offended by the suggestion. "In case you haven't noticed dude, we get shit done, we ALWAYS get shits done. And now that it's clear Elizabeth is in the centerfold of all this…"

"And Eleanor too, don't forget Eleanor." Erik piped up.

"Fine! Eleanor too." Damien hated it when someone interrupted him. "Now where was I? Oh yeah! Now that Elizabeth and Eleanor is the centerfold of this unraveling calamity, all of our collective fucks have been diverted to this most important mission." He sprung from his seat suddenly, chest puffing. "No matter what happens, through fire and flames, we will rescue the lambs of Bioshock, or give our very lives in the process. So can we please stopping wasting time and get this shit started?!"

Tangmo, Henry and Erik voiced their support enthusiastically, leaping from their seats, fists slamming into the table to reaffirm their dedication, the hologram stuttering from the impact. The girls were calmer in their reaction, to say the least, half-hearted shrugs and nods abound.

"All right good, I know I could count on all of you," the Master looked please, cracking a modest smile. "I just need to get you all pumped up, you know? All psyched up and ready to kickass, take names, all that jazz."

"You know you can just say Elizabeth and Eleanor were in trouble right?" Tangmo said. "That's motivation enough for us."

"Yeah, but the scare tactic was for them." He nodded to the girls who looked about as thrill as a mother forced to endure 'Let it Go' for the billionth freaking time.

"Meh, it's a job. We'll get it done regardless." Yuki yawned, long and lazy, leaning on the table sleepily.

"Your enthusiasm is greatly appreciated." There was a sound of rough, dry scrape followed by a fiery ignition. The Eight turned toward the Master who had lit up two matches and was striding around the table toward them, the light flickering in his right hand. He watched the matches burn for a few seconds before blowing them out, leaving only the blacken tip trailing wisps of smoke. Sliding open the matchbox with his free hand, the Master took out six more matches and placed them next to its burnt brethren. Tossing the box back onto the table, he flipped all the matches upside down, rolled them around in his palm a few times before clenching his fist so that only the clean wooden butt stood up.

"There a little detail I missed out earlier," he began as the Eight came to stand before him, making a loose crescent around his out stretched fist. "This laceration of reality in the Bioshock universe is somehow hampering my usual ability to interact with…things. This means that for the time being, I can only teleport two of you directly to the outskirt of Mercy Fall, while the rest will enter the Bioshock universe via the designated entry point, which is the Rapture lighthouse."

"And now we draw matches to decide the two lucky winners who are going to be picking up Elizabeth and Eleanor." Lita confirmed the given directive, to which the Master nodded.

"I volunteer as tribute!" Damien shouted, hands waving desperately in the air.

The Master gave his request a moment of thought before saying, "nah! It's more fun this way."

"Oh come on man!"

"Tangmo, Yuki, you two go first."

"Ladies first." Tangmo waved Yuki over, who flashed him a smile and strode forward.

"Thanks." She said before randomly snatching a match from the bundle. Predictably, she drew a red unlit match and her reaction couldn't have been more apathetic.

"Oh well," she shrugged absentmindedly then tucked the match into the blazer of her school uniform, knowing that it could become useful later. "Your turn."

Taking a deep breath Tangmo stepped forward, the remaining seven matches sticking out like tiny row of protruding skeleton before him. Clasping his open palm together in the trademark Thai gesture known as wai, he began praying.

"Namo Tassa, Namo Tassa, Namo Tassa!" The Sanskrit incantation rose in cadence and fervor with each passing breathless second, only the impatient tapping of the Master's feet breaking the mantra.

"Why are you even praying? You're an atheist!" Henry was the first to lose his calm when Tangmo continuous muttering went passed the two minutes mark.

"I'm agnostic, there's a difference!" He snapped before going back to his prayer.

"Just pick the goddamn match you dickhead!" Damien shouted, looking about ready to tackle the Asian.

"Shut the fuck up!" Tangmo reached out toward the bundle of matches with a roar, closed his thumb and forefinger around the unblemished strand of wood and pull dramatically like he was in a Wuxia or Chanbara movie.

The match in his finger was scorched black.

Tangmo threw his arms in the air, bellowing an explosive victorious scream, jumping up and down while brandishing his prize in the face of his male comrades. Erik tried to respond, but found his linguistic and motor skill malfunctioning, overwhelming disbelief glitching him into an incomprehensible splutter. Damien and Henry howled injustice, pointing and cursing at the flustered Tangmo with burning, jealous hatred that could set the atmosphere on fire while Laura, Nikki and Lita wallowed in their misery, mocking laughter washing away the wailing defeat.

Calming down and panting heavily, Tangmo flicked the burnt match on to the table and gave Yuki raised, waiting hand a smacking high five.

"Yeah! That's what's up! Woo!" Tangmo couldn't stay still, pacing back and forth with an occasional satisfying fist pump to break the monotony.

"Okay settle down." The Master interjected. "Nikki, Erik, your turn."

Both drew red matches, the disappointment varied between the sexes.

"Aw, I didn't get to meet Eleanor and Elizabeth." Nikki gave an exaggerated whine and placed the match on her ear.

"All Father! Why have you abandon me in my greatest moment of need? Why?! Have I not been faithful? Have I not been loyal? Have I not spilled blood in your name? Answer me!" Erik shook his fist in anger at the heaven.

Henry and Lita went next, both drawing disappointment.

"Argh! Goddamn it!" Henry groaned then approached Tangmo with a disappointed smile, his hand raised and arching over his shoulder. Grinning, Tangmo mimicked his move before their hands came down in a thunderous clasp, shaking with firm camaraderie.

"Good luck man." they bump shoulders. "Give those fuckers hell."

"Will do." Tangmo nodded before breaking off the handshake.

"Okay last two. Damien, Laura you're up." The Master gestured both of them over, the English/Scottish hybrid looking abhorrently disinterested while the Canadian seems wrecked with barely contained nervousness.

"Let's get the bloody thing over with then." Laura snatched one of the last two matches from the Master grip. None moved or breathe, unblinking gaze drawn toward the piece of wood hanging between her fingers. The tip was charcoal black, flaking off specks of soot into the still air, drifting like snow.

"No!" The raw anguish in Damien wail was enough to put the Darth Vader to shame. He collapsed to his knee as if struck with a fatal blow and fell with a thud on his side, eyes distant and unfocused.

Then he began singing:

" _Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again._ "

"Oh get a grip you sodding wimp!" Disgusted, Laura strode over to his rocking, fetal form and gave him a hard kick to the buttocks. Yelping like an injured dog, Damien stopped singing Simon and Garfunkel's classic and leapt to his feet, limping and rubbing his injured posterior.

"You lucky bastard," he stared longingly at the burnt match before snapping toward Laura, more than a tad scornful. "That's not fair! You didn't even want to go!"

"That's what you get for quoting Hungers Game!" Nikki laughed. "God those movies sucked!"

"It's not fair!" Damien huffed childishly, giving the ground a good stomp.

"Grow up ya pansy cunt." Laura's Scottish accent was surfacing now, annoyance tend to lure it out. "You'll meet your precious wee lamb when we're done with her."

"Now that we got that out of the way." The Master waved his hand at the empty pristine wall and summoned two heavy looking black wood doors. "Erik, Henry, Yuki, Nikki, Damien, Lita, you six head down to the wharf and help prepare my ship for the mission." The moan was the first instance of unity today, the Master promptly ignored the complaint. "Tangmo, Laura, go suit up. It's the 70s, so pick the appropriate weapons and clothes for the time period."

"Yeah about that." Tangmo raised his hand to interrupt.

"What is it Tangmo?" The Master inquired expectantly, knowing the boy wasn't one to usually voiced objection, but if he does there was always a semi-good reason.

"You and I both know what's at stake here." Tangmo continued.

"Indeed." The Master nodded.

"And given the importance that hinges upon the success and failure of this mission, I don't feel comfortable going up against an army drugged out psychopath and brainwashed zealot with only some backward ass weapons from the 70s as my only reassurance."

"You want me to grant full access to the armory for this mission," the Master quickly caught on to what Tangmo was asking, eyes narrowing dangerously. "After everything I told you about how unstable the Bioshock universe was?"

"The near constant state of shifting and conflicting canon seem to be the norm of that universe. One moment something is dead, the next its alive. Lies became truth and truth became lies. Reality and all of its variations in constant flux that joins, break apart or merged into something new at a whim. The Bioshock universe is already frayed to bloody strips, so why not exploit that wound?"

"It could make things worse."

"Not beyond the degree that you've already describe. Foreign essences are already leaking into that universe, and this gives us a rare opportunity to throw everything we have against Rapture and Columbia."

The Master stroked his bread, seconds stretched to minutes as his hard eyes became lost in introspection.

"Do it." he uttered simply in answer, his guarded look became lessening as he slowly came to accept the idea. "Your request is granted, take whatever you need to ensure that Elizabeth and Eleanor are protected."

"And this goes for everyone?" Henry ventured, looking hopeful.

"Yes. Weapon rights granted to all of you."

Tangmo almost fell over from all the friendly slaps smacking his back. After the torrents of thank you and whooping cheers that left him momentarily deaf, the six unlucky ship crews bounded with new found enthusiasm toward the door leading to the wharf. The menial sailorman task suddenly didn't seemed so bad now.

"Nice going." Laura gave him gentle tap on the shoulder.

"I try my best," Tangmo smiled smugly as he opened the door to the armory and held it open for Laura. "After you."

"Thank you kind sir." She gave a dainty curtsey before stepping through the threshold, Tangmo close at her heel.

Like the conference room, the armory was an empty white space that stretched into infinity. The floor, horizon and ceiling merging into one uninterrupted stale background. Instead of a round conference table however, there were two rather ordinary looking double door lockers standing side by side directly before them.

The scene bore striking reminiscent to that one scene from the Matrix where Neo and Trinity, on their way to rescue Morpheus from Agent Smith, stopped by a virtual stock room where rows of guns zoomed pass them. The difference here was that these two lockers didn't stretched from horizon to horizon in ad infinitum, nor was it over flowing with racks and row of weapons.

This was what the Master called a smart room.

A room that react and caters to the occupant by materializing what those individuals needed once they enter, favoring bare pragmatism over frivolity. For example, as Tangmo and Laura neared the lockers a long bench that most definitely wasn't there before sprung into existence because the room knows that the both of them needed a place to sit when they're lacing up their boots.

Standing before the locker, Tangmo and Laura began stripping down to their undergarments, both taking long, admiring glance at each other. There was nothing the both of them haven't seen before.

"You're looking good." Tangmo can't help but admired Laura lean and powerful form, beautifully sculpted with the perfect balance of muscle and lithe femininity. An imposing physique both dangerous and alluring. It was with great effort that he pried his eyes away.

"You think so?" Laura asked, spinning on her toes and swaying her hips ever so slightly, unashamed of her body. "Some of my friends are saying I'm putting on some weight."

"They happened to be blind by any chance?"

Laura laugh was warm and summery. "I'll never get tired of your charming side. But honestly though, you don't I'm gaining weight?"

"Absolutely not."

"Thanks…you're looking pretty fit yourself."

"Eating right and exercising, you know the simple stuff." Although he wasn't as big and broad as Henry and Damien, Tangmo still maintain a strong athletic build, corded muscle rippled and knotted his tall frame. And to think that only a year ago he was just a skinny, shy bespectacled boy who can't even run a hundred meter dash without collapsing into a heap of sweat.

Throwing open the doors, Tangmo beheld the impossibly large interior within the inconspicuous locker. Weapons, armors, gears and gadgets from a hundred realities, both of science fiction and fantasy origin, sat and stood on labeled racks, displays and mounts, connected by interlocking webs of long mechanical arms that held the objects in correct rows and sections.

Who would have thought Doraemon fourth dimension pocket could prove to be of any use in their line of work?

As he reached inside, the various stands and platforms began moving to the sound of sharp mechanical hisses. One of the arms spun and danced around other metal limbs with calculated synchronization, the object on the surface remain undisturbed despite the tumbling movement and lack of any holsters before coming to rest in front of Tangmo. Picking up the black shirt and legging held in place by a faint tractor beam, Tangmo began making himself more decent.

"Decision, decision." Tangmo thought for a moment before waving an item over, the machine whined and produced a silver glittering vest encased in a crystal glass display. Mithril, the Durin kind not the Karak variant, the original and the best. Carefully tilting back the case, Tangmo took the weightless chainmail off the cold platform and slid it on his torso, covering his chests, abdomen and biceps in shining impenetrable stars, he laced them up nice and tight.

Secondary armor done, the long arms retracted and returned to its row, Tangmo gave some thought on his primary armor. What would be the appropriate response to the array of weaponry, both conventional and genetic, that Rapture and Columbia has to bear against him? With an evil grin, he waved forward a man size crucifix. Draped across it arms was the midnight black, silver trimmed carapace armor, Cadia pattern, worn by the legendary Kasrkin Tempestus Scions, or Storm Troopers in normal English, the greatest foot soldiers of the Imperium of Man, second only to the mighty Adeptus Astartes.

Tangmo almost shed tear at its beauty

Layered in ceramites, armaplas, plasteel and adamantium, nothing in the Bioshock arsenal can even hope make a dent on such an awesome and venerated armor.

Blessed the 40k universe for going overboard on everything.

He gave it one last loving look before taking each individual pieces of armor and fastening them on to his body. The arms, legs, greaves and pauldrons were easy enough to put on, but the main body armor was proving to be quite a challenge. The various straps and laces eluded his grasping hands, and those that he managed to tie weren't enough to hold the armor in place, dangling loose with every minute movement.

"Laura can you help me out here?" Tangmo called for aid.

"Hang on just a minute." A grunt and metallic clang answered him, followed by a slew of Scottish tinged curses that ended in a sigh. "You know what? I need your help too, just a sec."

Stepping away from the locker, Laura approached and gave him the same look of surprise that he now wore.

"Well, this is rather serendipitous." Tangmo could only nodded in agreement.

"Great minds think alike."

It appeared that the both of them seemed to have a similar, no, identical choice of attire for this mission. Laura was clad in an Adeptus Sororitas, more commonly known as the Sisters of Battle, pattern power armor, painted black to suit the Ordo Hereticus office. Unlike the hulking power armor of the Space Marine, the Sisters armor exuded and glorified the female form, unabashed in its display of womanly hips, waists and breasts. Although the armor might appear sultry and distracting, it provided greater protection than his carapace armor while also enhancing the physical capability of its wearer.

"I forget how bloody difficult it was to put this damn thing on." Laura complained before turning around to let Tangmo secure the leathers straps and metal lock on her back.

"Hold your hair up," She held them up as Tangmo got to work. "Yeah me too, I usually have one of my troopers to help when I absolutely needed to wear it."

"Surprise you survived this long with just the coat."

"Never doubt the awesomeness of the commissariat coat."

"You're gonna where it, aren't you?" She gave him a sly grin. "Dashing and heroic for Elizabeth and Eleanor?"

"Duh!" Tangmo exclaimed proudly as he finished up the last detail on Laura battle corset before waving over the long black coat decorated with scars of las-bolt, bolt rounds and shrapnel. Uneven shades of black bloomed in patches where repairs had been made. And the hat too. A commissar uniform isn't complete without the awesome hat.

"Your turn." Tangmo spun around as Laura went over the straps and belts of his carapace, feeling the armor tightening over his body with every strong tug.

"You think all of this is enough?" Laura asked after pulling another strap into place, hard.

"I say we're overdressed," Tangmo answered. "I mean, shit, we're going up against outdated and scavenged weapon with top of the line of gears forty thousand years beyond their time. All things considered getting kill wearing these would be outright disgraceful."

"Better to be excessive than to be sorry, that's what I always say." Laura spun him around to give the finished work an admiring look.

"The words we all live by." Tangmo concurred and reached for his commissar coat and hat, putting them on with no small amount of dramatic flair. After putting on the last pieces of attire, specifically a pair of fingerless gloves, a pair of socks and a pair of boots, Tangmo's eyes sparked with devilish gleam as his hungry gaze fell on the multitude of weapons arrayed before him. He could already hear their quivering beckons, toys begging to be played by their master like some demented version of Toy Story.

"Only the best for this trip." Tangmo flashed a toothy grin and waved over his first item. An AA-12 auto-shotgun, the black surface polished to a mirror shine. Placing the weapon on a long metallic table that had materialized with exceptional care, Tangmo went back to the locker, the machine inside whirred and whined as the second vital piece of hardware came to rest before him.

Voicing a silent prayer to the Immortal God Emperor and the Omnissiah, Tangmo reached inside the locker and retrieved his Bolt Pistol. Like his coat, it bore scars of a hundred battles. A nick there from a stray las-bolt, a trail of scorch marks from hungry tongues of fire, a dent in the grip where it had cracked open skulls, a testament to its celebrated career. And besides, what was the point of dressing up as an Imperial commissar if you're not going to carry their most iconic weapon?

"Once more into fray, eh my friend?" He placed the pistol down beside the AA-12 and Laura first pick of the day, a black and heavily modified FN SCAR. The rail extension, laser pointer and scope adding a slick, futuristic look to the assault rifle. But what stunned him most was her second pick. A bright red Flamer of the Sororitas pattern, golden skull and fleur-de-lis emblazoned on the hand guard and cylindrical promethium tank.

"Damn dude this is a rescue operation, not search and destroy." Tangmo eyed the inquisitorial weapon with a mixture of fear and awe.

"Yeah I know." Laura seemed surprised by his reaction.

"A fucking flamethrower seems a little…I don't know, excessive?"

"Says the guy bringing the Bolter."

"It's a Bolt Pistol and touché." Tangmo gave a sideway cock of his head before heading back to the locker and scrounged up as much ammo for the AA-12 and Bolt Pistol as he can carry, along with all the other necessary second tier items he needed. Things like combat knives, execution las-pistol, a couple of side arms, an extra pump action shotgun, grenades, etc.

You know, the things that made you feel safe and more properly dressed but never actually got to use?

The once empty table was now littered with various assortments of the universes finest death dealing tools, the chrome surface visibly creaking downward by the weight.

"That's a lot of shit." Laura commented with an impressive nod. "Webbings and packs?"

"Webbings and packs." Tangmo and Laura then retrieved the aforementioned items. Strapping on the black and grey camo webbing was easy enough, but the hard part was stuffing everything else in the large backpack.

That they needed to carry by the way.

"Umm…" Tangmo eyed the overflowing content on the table for a moment before carelessly stuffing them into the pack.

"Maybe this was a little bit much." He muttered after noticing how the pack was already beginning to bulge after just a few articles.

"Love, there is no such thing as too much," Laura craned her neck at him. "Besides, don't just stuff everything in, categorize for Christ sake, big one at the base and smaller ones on top."

In retrospect that was probably the reason why his pack looked eight months pregnant.

"Oh…damn I think you're right." Flipping the pack upside down, Tangmo emptied the content back on to the table in a cadence of loud bangs before restarting the process all over again. Correctly this time.

"Too enraptured with the prospect of meeting Eleanor and Elizabeth to concentrate?" Laura grinned.

Of course he was. "No!"

"Aww, you're so cute when you lie," her face went grim then, icy solemnity setting so suddenly that Tangmo was slightly taken a back. "Is this going to be a problem? Let me tell you now, I'm going to be pretty miffed if I get kill because you got distracted by those two tarts."

"Dude seriously? You know I don't get distracted on the job," he shot back at Laura. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Laura eyed him dirtily.

"Are you jealous of Elizabeth and Eleanor or something? Shit man."

"I'm not jealous you fooking arsehole," the Scottish accent surfaced again. "…Just not too overly fond of the two lasses. Well, more specifically one of them at least."

"And this is Elizabeth we're talking about aren't we?" Tangmo gave snobby knowing look. "Come on man, she's like one of the best video game character ever created, what the hell is there to hate?"

Laura snorted disgustedly. "No she's not, holy shit. I mean, all Elizabeth does is give you an item then ran away hiding. Couldn't she, I don't know, pick up a pistol and help once in a while when the AI decides to go horde mode on our arses? When I summon Eleanor in the second Bioshock game at least she gets shit done, like literary annihilating every single enemy in the area."

"You can't blame her for not being able to fight dude, that's not fair. She just a sacred and confused little girl fresh out of solitary confinement, you can't expect her to suddenly turn into Lara Croft. The original, not that reboot shit."

"Oh spare me. And you'd think that after the whole Columbia episode she would at the very least toughen the fuck up, but nope! When she finally had to get things done herself, she turned into a boring and powerless version of Corvo. And after all of that, she still manages to get her sorry arse captured and tortured all the bloody time. Oh, and I almost forget, she then proceed to get herself kill. Just like that! She just freaking gave up and let Atlas bashed her head in without even a smidgen of a fight."

"Yeah that was kinda strange, I blame bad writing though. But here's the thing, we've now went beyond the established canon, which basically means we can finally see what Elizabeth is truly capable of, free of questionable plots and cinematic devices. Who knows? Maybe she'll silence your naysaying."

"I'm not holding my breath."

The door to armory swung open then, bringing the debate to a pause. Lita causally stroll into the room, still clad in her sleeping t-shirt and shorts, but now with the addition of two large metal briefcases hanging from her arms.

"Am I interrupting?" The Eight resident Q smirked and hefted the heavy case on to the table.

"Not at all love." Laura said. "What's all this then?"

"Welp, since the Master pretty much green light everything we have in the arsenal, I thought I might give you an extra edge on this mission with all the things I've been cooking up in the workshop," Lita was positively perky as she opened the first case and withdrew a laptop size fleur-de-lis. "This one is for you Laura, hold still for a moment."

Laura went rigid as Lita walked around to her back and pressed the iron French lily into the slot where the hulking energy pack was supposed to be. There was a sequence of metallic clacks and clicks as the automated clamping mechanism locked the fleur-de-lis in place, followed by the low reverberating hum of the power armor. Laura then began flexing her arms and legs, finding the stiffness and weight that was a common feature of a Sororitas armor had all but gone.

"Bloody hell!" Laura exclaimed, jumping up and down with giddy glee, "it's like I'm wearing nothing! Don't start getting any idea mister!"

"Too late." Tangmo smirked.

"This is incredible, thank you so much!" Before Lita could react Laura had her wrapped up in a tight embrace, causing her to squirm and yelped painfully as the ceramites plates tightened around her.

"Argh! Let me go!" Lita squeaked, prompting Laura to release her with a sheepish grin.

"Oops, sorry love. Here, let me give you a hand…"

"No! I got this so just back away!" Lita held up a hand before giving herself quick stretches and bends, heaving a satisfying moan after a joint gave a loud bony pop.

"Phew, that's better," Lita rolled her shoulders a few more time before turning to address the beaming, apologetic looking Laura. "So I guess you like it then?"

"This is amazing Lita, I can't thank you enough," Laura then execute a flawless triple pirouettes, moving with lightless grace despite the apparent constricting armor. "How did you managed this?"

"Simple, I just replaced that archaic sub-atomic battery you Imperial loved to carry around with a travel size cold fusion cell, powered by a cleaner and more efficient energy of hydrogenizes crystal core. Smaller, prettier and with high energy output, hence you weightless limberness."

"Oh I could just give you a hug!"

"No thank you!" Lita scurried to hide behind Tangmo as Laura drew closer with her arm spread wide for another lethal cuddle. "Your gratitude is more than enough."

"Ahem, sorry to interrupt but we're on a pretty tight schedule so…what else you got?" Tangmo gave the hiding Lita a sideway look.

"Oh! I have something else both of you will definitely like." Springing back to her feet, Lita went back to the metal case and pulled out a magazine and a belt of segmented cable with a plug at the end, both glowing iridescent crimson.

"The same kind of power cell that's powering Laura armor. Miniaturized into a travel size magazine for a laspistol and a snuggly belt loader that feeds directly into the hellpistol." Lita announced proudly.

"This is amazing Lita," Tangmo nod appreciatively, and was that a blush on her face? "So what's the capacity on this thing? A couple of thousands shot?"

"The volume is not measured in shots, but hours. You can turn the las-shots to the highest setting and mowed everything down continuously and, if my calculation is correct, it would last for more than 200 hours before the cell runs dry."

"I'm going to have so much fun with this!" Laura was gleeful as she clasped the belt around her waist and connected the energy plug to her hellpistol, red purifying fire lighting up the weapon.

"Deadly and stylish." She announced with a soft, hypnotic sway of her shapely hips.

"You're drooling." Tangmo quickly swipe his mouth only to find it dry, Lita snickering as she went to the case and withdrew a black arm brace with a rectangular screen on top. The design reminding him of a more sleek and futuristic looking Pip Boy.

"Lastly we have your personal all-purpose device, included but not limited too are real time GPS map, motion scanner and health assessor." Taking the cylindrical device from Lita, Tangmo slid it on to his left forearm. The screen flickered to life with a nice soft blue neon glow, the word 'Stand by' blinking on the screen as the brace snuggled comfortably around his limb. A digitized jingle sounded as the display changed to show an infinity symbol that spun slowly like an orbiting star.

"It's touch and voice activated, give it a whirl." Lita folded her arms, looking ultra-smug.

"Map." Tangmo spoke and was greeted by a 'Not Available' flashing across the screen. Of course it wouldn't be available, they were in a pocket dimension between realities after all. A gentle tap brought back the infinity symbol. Tapping once more the rotating 8 winked away to be replaced by neat rows of apps like icon. He tapped the one with a heart symbol and the screen was filled with bright, animated images of his pulse, blood pressure, anxiety level, squiggly line of various neuron readings and other miscellaneous reading like sugar level and cholesterol. Everything looking good.

"Motion tracker." Laura's command was followed by the recognizable blipping sound from the Aliens movies.

"I like the sound and all but wouldn't this just attract the enemy? Founders and splicers aren't exactly deaf if I recalled." Laura didn't seemed too thrill.

"Just mute it then." Lita said.

"That easy? Okay then. Mute," the sound disappeared, Laura gave a satisfying nod. "Very nice. Then how do you turn off the screen like for the iPhone?"

"Just say 'lock'." They both did and the screen went mirror black after an audible clicking sound.

"Darling, you are absolutely wonderful as always," Lita grinned bashfully at Laura compliment, "so what else do you got?"

"That's about it actually," Lita closed the case. "If you need anything else this would be a good time to speak up."

"I think we're more than set for a simple escort mission," Laura finished packing her things, walked back to the locker and retrieved an inquisitorial coat and hat and a silver necklace carved into an exquisite Ammonoidea before slinging on her large pack.

"Actually I have one thing in mind," Tangmo finished packing, correctly this time, and swung the heavy load on to his shoulder. "Air support."

Lita brow irked with interest. "What do you have in mind?"

"Harassers, bombers, fighters, heavy supports and a supply barge for a prolong engagement," Tangmo listed his query. "Master did say everything is authorized."

"Yes he did. I'll have a chat with him after I'm all spruced up," Lita turned to a new locker that had popped up, reached inside and took out a laptop, which she proceed to stuff inside one of Tangmo's pack compartment. "Once you set the targets and mapped the area, you can transfer the command prompt to your wrist device."

"Will do," Tangmo gave his shoulders a few good roll to adjust the weight. "Thanks Lita."

"Just leave something for the rest of us okay?" Lita flashed him a divine smile.

"Can't make any promises." Tangmo was about to step off after Laura when Lita began to undress, his feet suddenly magnetized to the floor. Catching his gaze, Lita gave him an amorous wink before turning her back to him and lifted the shirt, teasingly slowly. Tangmo could see that she wasn't wearing any bra, and found himself frozen in unblinking anticipation as the shirt slowly peeled up to reveal the dark honey skin beneath. The shirt was a mere inch away from the underside of her breasts when an abhorrent, steely darkness swallowed his vision and began dragging him away.

"What the fuck?! No!" Tangmo howled and kicked wildly. "Let me go! No!"

"Better luck next time babe!" He heard Lita snorted after him as a door slammed open, the ceramites blackness unrelenting.

"Damn you Laura!" Tangmo screamed as Laura hauled him back into the light, the weight of the pack almost sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Just looking out for my gals." Laura's smirk dripped with sweet satisfaction.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure you gave Lita a good 'look' over."

"Okay that's enough." The Master voice halted the careening fist a hair length away from his left cheekbone.

"Saved by the bell." Tangmo's breath of relief turned into a sharp hiss when Laura opened palmed smacked him over the head before blowing him a raspberry.

"Are you two ready?" The Master continued, waving toward a dimensional door that seemed to retract and wavered at random, dangerous intervals. His face strained with effort to keep it stabilized. "The portal isn't holding up too well."

"Yeah, we're good," Tangmo and Laura traded nods. "Lita is going to brief you on the use of drones later by the way."

"I know, I'll text you later with my decision," the Master spoke hurriedly. "Now go!"

"Wait, where are you dropping us?" Laura inquired.

"My contacts are already there now go already!"

Weapons braced on their shoulder and aiming forward, Tangmo and Laura sprinted toward the Bioshock universe, the gateway winked soundlessly out of existence the moment they stepped over the threshold.

The overly pristine whiteness of the Master staging area abruptly gave way to towering pines and lush rolling grasses, sterile scent replaced by the sweet heady fragrance of unspoiled nature. Eyes trained down the iron sights, Tangmo crouched and tightened his grip on the AA-12 before sweeping the area in front of him in a wide semi-circle arch, breath slow and steady, finger coiled around the trigger. Behind him he could hear the click of the safety switch on the SCAR as Laura scanned the area behind him.

"Clear!" Tangmo announced after the third sweep, straightening back on his feet. Nothing here but birds and bees.

"Clear!" Laura echoed, also rising. "Nice weather isn't it?"

"Yeah." Lowering his AA-12 so that it hung lazily by a sling over his shoulder, Tangmo spun around slowly to appreciate the rustic surrounding, peaceful and idyllic, a serene overture before the coming symphony of war. "Nice and cool."

"Really? Its bloody steaming here." Laura gazed up to the bright cerulean sky above, fluffy cloud drifted lazily across the perfect blue canvas.

"From where I come from, we call this winter." Tangmo said, admiring the forest around him. Everything here seemed to have a strange sublime beauty to it, unbelievable in its picturesque perfection. Picking a leaf from a nearby branch, Tangmo held in before him, dazzled by the impressive chlorophyll green appendage, the color and detail more vivid than anything he had ever laid eyes upon.

Then it occurred to him.

This was a Bioshock game, of course the art direction was going to be phenomenal, no wonder everything looked so pretty. Like the begin of Infinite and Burial at Sea, the game allowed everybody to just walk around and enjoy the sight and sound before everything went to shit.

"You done ogling that leaf yet?" Laura tapped her feet impatiently, shifting her grip on the SCAR.

"Yeah, sorry," Tangmo flung it away. "Everything just looked so unreal you know? So beautifully Unreal."

"All looks, no substance. We're definitely in a Bioshock game."

Tangmo shot her an annoyed look. "Whatever. So what now?"

"Now you follow us." A new, yet familiar male British voice spoke. Tangmo and Laura spun around to see the prim and proper Lutece twin standing behind them, eyeing their Imperial attires with a fleeting hint of suspicious.

"Tha mi toilichte." Laura curtsy with an evil grin.

"Sawatdee khrup." Tangmo wai with a similarly wicked expression.

"And good morning to you both, good sir and madam." There was a ghostly hint of a smirk on Robert face, playing along with Tangmo and Laura unique style of greeting while Rosalind, not one to indulge in such childish behavior, merely observed them with an obvious shade of annoyance in those bright blue eyes.

"Charmed." Rosalind deadpanned before giving them both judgmental look. "I see we've expected too much of the Master contribution to this fast looming calamity."

"They appeared frighteningly well dressed for war though." Robert commented.

"Indeed they do. Although the mathematical improbability still stands."

"Remember dear sister that Booker DeWitt was only one man and he manages to take on Comstock followers and the Vox Populi singlehandedly."

"Yes, but Mr. DeWitt was a player of our choosing. I feel somewhat apprehensive now that the same courtesy of control no longer lies with us."

"Dude, she's scared." Tangmo chuckled suddenly, Rosalind spun sharply to face him with a narrowing glare.

"I beg your pardon young man?" There was an undeniable ominous tone to Rosalind voice, like a sharp rasp of unsheathing sword.

"Hey! Fear is totally a legitimate human emotion dude, no need to be ashamed." Tangmo raise his hand innocently.

"Frightened by little us?" Laura smirked. "I'm touched, truly."

"I believe that the message we were trying to convey," Robert butted in before Rosalind could shot back a retort, "is that as scientist it is in our nature to be very weary of the unknown variable that could affect our scenario for the better…"

"Or worst." Rosalind added snappily.

"Indeed." Robert shot a quick look at Rosalind. "So you must understand our apprehension."

"Totally man, we get you." Tangmo said.

"Oh? Do you now?" Rosalind sounded almost mocking.

"Let's just say we have our fair share of wildcard popping up and screwing with our best laid plans," Tangmo cast a knowing looking at Laura. "But lucky you, we are only here to help Elizabeth and Eleanor. No ulterior motive or nothing."

"I find his bluntness somewhat reassuring dear sister." Robert piped up.

"Barely dear brother." Rosalind was unconvinced.

Tangmo simply shrugged. "Well, we'll let our action do the talking then. For after all, victory needs no explanation."

"While defeat allows none." Laura finished the Imperial mantra for him.

"A bold declaration. But we will see soon enough whether such phrase hold any true authenticity." Rosalind continued with a little sass.

"Take solace that when all of this is over, you'll be a very happy woman." Tangmo gave her a wink.

"Perhaps." Rosalind replied coolly.

"With all the excitement I believe we haven't quite gotten your names." Robert inquired.

"I'm Tangmo."

"Laura."

"Please to make your acquaintances."

"And I assume you know who we are?" Rosalind looked at them with mild expectation.

"The fame and incomparable physicist Rosalind Lutece, the master architect of the flying city Columbia." Laura stepped forward. "List of accomplishments include the creation of the Lutece Field, the discovery of inter-dimensional portal, pulling the equally esteem Robert Lutece over to her own reality, assisting a fanatic cult leader in kidnapping Booker DeWitt's daughter, and engineered a plot to dispose said cult leader after he stabbed you in the back."

Expecting Rosalind to be offended, especially with the insinuation regarding Elizabeth origin, Tangmo was a tad surprised, and slightly disturbed, when a fleeting smile graced her freckled face.

"Dear brother, I think these two will do right by Ms. DeWitt and Ms. Lamb after all." Rosalind turned to regard her brother, who concurred with a nod.

"See Tangmo, diplomacy." Laura gave him friendly nudge in the side.

"Yeah, I can think of other name for it." The nudge quickly turned into a painful jab.

"Now." Laura addressed Rosalind. "I believe you are here to lead us to the town of Mercy Fall?"

"That was the agreement we had with Mr. Master," Rosalind inspected their uniform again. "However I believe a little alteration need to be made given your rather…distinct attire."

"We're dressed to kill." Laura smirked.

"Indeed, although the nice people of Mercy Fall will more than likely take a more guard perception to such assembly," it was Robert who now spoke. "Therefore we will lead you to a more discreet path."

"Lead the way then." Tangmo nodded.

"Very well, keep pace then." As one, the twins spun and strode deeper into the glittering emerald scenery, their movement a mirror image of one another, a perfect duplicate synchronization.

Tangmo and Laura quickly fell into steps behind them, guns slack over their chest and fingers resting on the grip. It was a nice little stroll through tranquil greenery, the pillars of nature rising like great sanctified temple, a house of primordial elegance more beautiful than any feeble hands of men could ever hope to create. It was easy to lose yourself in Mother Earth splendor, and Tangmo soon found himself more draw to his surrounding than the Lutece. Beside him, Laura was also getting spellbound by the wondrous sight.

"You two seem relaxed." Rosalind spoke up.

"We are." Tangmo never took his eyes off the leafy enclosure.

"Interesting." Rosalind continued. "So the possibilities of any lurking threats are not of your concern at all?"

"There's nothing here."

"And you are sure of this."

Tangmo gave a friendly laugh. "Can you hear them Ms. Lutece? The birds singing their jovial serenade? The scents carried by the winds? Nothing but purified fragrance of floras in full bloom, sweet and alluring, absent the acrid odor of humanity. This place is unspoiled. The only intruder here is us."

"Looks can be deceiving." Rosalind added simply.

"Ah, scientist." Tangmo sighed. "So consumed by the passion to unlock the mechanization of the world that you become blind to its true working. Ancient wisdom forsaken for the sake of equation."

He could only smirk when the female Lutece inclined her head slightly in his direction, glaring threateningly with one eye before returning her attention forward. The sane, logical part of Tangmo's brain was telling him not to aggravate the Lutece, but the chance to screw around with the twins was too good to pass up. Rosalind joyless personality made it that more delicious to push her button…shit that sounded kinda wrong.

A hum sounded to his right, Laura was vocalizing a tune he knew all too well. A bright smile graced his face when she began singing, her voice a heavenly soprano chiming like angelic bells.

 _"_ _Someday, when we are wiser, when the worlds older, when we have learned."_

As one, the Lutece turn startled, but didn't interrupt as Laura continued to the next verse.

 _"_ _Someday, life will fairer, need will be rarer, and greed will not pay."_

It was a strange Disney moment that popped up out of nowhere, with Laura capturing the role of a doe eyed princess perfectly, moving in the correct wavy motion that was a trademark to the studio many heroines, and Tangmo loved every moment of it. Sure, the guns and armor was a little off putting, but beyond the grim exterior Laura was really selling the part. And hey, Elizabeth practically did the same thing when she and Booker were in Shanty Town.

 _"_ _Godspeed this bright millennia, let it come, if we wish upon the moon…"_

Stopping, the Lutece diverted all of their attention to this strange yet whimsical display, watching intently as Laura finished the song, hand rising dramatically to the bright heaven above.

 _"_ _One day, someday…soon…"_

Tangmo gave her a thumps up while the Lutece clapped in a stiff, mechanized manner of people who were not used to giving compliment, or clapping for that matter.

"A solider and a poet. Full of surprises I see?" Rosalind commented.

"Bravo." Robert announced as they began moving again. "A hopeful and inspiring piece."

Laura snorted. "No love, this song is a bloody tragedy."

Robert was mildly confused. "How so?"

"We never learn."

Robert didn't reply as they continued down the quickly sparse path. Widening tree lines and leveling ground indicating the tampering of civilization.

"We have arrived." Following Rosalind outstretched arm, Tangmo and Laura step onto an overgrown clearing, shinning green grasses and wild flowers caressing their knees, great thick roots rising above the soft earth like petrified serpents. A peculiar square structure stood hidden beneath the swaying foliage, time worn and weather beaten to rotting black. It took Tangmo a moment to recognize the low and flat shape of one those cellar doors that seems to be a permanent fixture of American and European housing.

"Nice, definitely not gonna get shank in there." Laura's sarcasm was hard to miss as she reached over and grabbed the rusty iron handle. In one swift motion she pulled the decrepit door off its hinges, decaying woods and iron flew pass Tangmo before crashing into a towering pine, exploding in a gust of brilliant splinters.

Power armor.

When your surrounding wasn't one of reinforced gothic steel structures, you sometime forget how much it enhances your strength.

"Oops." Laura shrugged as Tangmo swung the other door open, without breaking it, and pointed his AA-12 into the cavernous stairs leading into an unlit tunnel, finger hovering on the trigger.

"What is this?" Tangmo asked. "And don't say tunnel, stairs or something along those lines."

"Very well. It is what historian now referred to as the Underground Railroad." Rosalind began crisply.

"A route to escape the bondage of slavery, passage to emancipation." Robert added.

"A century ago this was where the American blacks began the final length of their journey toward freedom. A path leading northward from this very location will take them all the way to the Canadian border."

"So where does this lead to?" Laura unslung here flamer and lights the ignition fire.

"To the church of Lady Jolee in Mercy Fall," Robert said. "From there you can easily navigate your way into town and retrieve Elizabeth and Eleanor."

"As I said before, your rather conspicuous attire will more than likely drew unwanted attention from the residents." Rosalind said.

"It is a time of great celebration in town you see."

"A time of historical indulgence and unrestrained patriotism."

"A birth of a nation."

"A rousing cheer for the republic."

"For it is the Fourth of July."

"The Fourth of July? Dude, we're dressed for the occasion," Tangmo laughed and held out his arms.

"I failed to see how dressing in the style of a National Socialist would elicit American nationalism." Robert irked a brow.

"Not the dress love, the guns," Laura held up the SCAR and flamer in each hand, a toothy grin cutting across her face. "Nothing says you love the Star - Spangled Banner like the zealous dedication to the second amendment."

"Be that as it may, I would still advise you to stay out of sight," did Rosalind just roll her eyes? It shouldn't have been that cute. "Now, might I suggest you get going?"

"Something tells me this is where we part," Laura addressed the twins as Tangmo began descending the steps, taking point.

"For the moment I assured you." Robert nodded.

"Where will you go?" Laura pressed on.

"We need to alert Elizabeth and Eleanor of your coming," Rosalind gave her one last scathing look. "Don't want them to get the wrong idea."

"See you around then." Laura gave them a parting wave before descending after Tangmo who was crouched on his knee at the bottom of the stair case, the AA-12 pointed down the manmade shaft now lighted orange by the flamer's light, gaze fixed on his wrist as a map began rendering on the display screen.

"A straight line?" Laura came to stand beside him, hunching slightly to see.

"According to the scan, yeah," Tangmo rose. "Let's go."

They marched on in silent. The crunching of their boots echoed down the tunnel, the first noise in centuries to stir the darkness. The path was bare, coated in thick layers of cobwebs and dust that rose like mist around them. Tangmo could feel his skin crawl knowing lurked inside those bulbous cloudy sacks.

Spiders.

Millions of those eight legged bastards just waiting for a chance to pounce him, he fucking hate spiders.

"You want me to clear a path?" Laura snickered, waving her flamer.

"No thanks I'm fine," Tangmo skirted around a rather large puffy clump. "I'll just scream like a little girl if something's wrong."

"That's a nasty looking one on your shoulder though, mate."

Tangmo didn't know what was more embarrassing.

Falling for Laura very simple trick, or his sharp, but blessedly short, effeminate squeal and the tiptoeing ballerina like dance that followed. Laura was already doubling over in a breathless laughing fit when Tangmo finally composed him, dusting and straightening his commissariat long coat, pacing a small circlet to dispel the last of the fright. Dark malice burning in his eyes, Tangmo drew his Bolt pistol and pressed the cold barrel on Laura's temple who still cackled ceaselessly.

"Fuck…you." He hissed, putting every ounce of bile into those two syllables.

"After that? Not a chance love." Laura slapped the pistol away and got back on her feet, stifling her snicker.

"That was not funny bro, fucking hell," Tangmo holstered the Bolt pistol before glancing down both end of the tunnel. "Which way were we going?"

"That way." Laura pointed down a path with her flamer and together they continued on in relative peace, the cobwebs were still a bother but Tangmo managed to hammer out the phobia with steely focus and discipline. Now he only need to cast warily glance at the hive every minute or so.

A chiming electronic giggle sounded and a message icon popup in the middle of the updating map on Tangmo wrist display. Tapping the icon, a lightning bolt to exemplify urgency, Tangmo read aloud the Master message:

"Drone request granted, two squadrons enroute to your position, ETA one hour and forty minutes."

"That's nice and quick, hope it doesn't crash into any planes on the way." Laura mused.

"Reinforcement ETA, three hours." Tangmo blinked, making sure that he read that right.

"Did you say three hour?" Laura repeated, disbelief plain on her fiery hued face.

"Here." Pressing his screen, Tangmo forwarded the message to Laura. She tapped the display quickly, going over each letters and lines like a high school teacher scrutinizing her student's work.

"Bloody hell, you're right." She said after a moment.

"Told you so."

"From Reykjavik to the American east cost in three hours?"

"That fisherman ship must be more than meets the eye."

"Maybe it's a robot in disguise."

Fists pumping, they laughed at the well place reference before continuing down the tunnel, the passage widening deeper into the murky darkness, nothing stirred in the sunless stygian depth.

"Bloody hell it's quite." Laura observed.

"Well…yeah. It's an abandoned tunnel," Tangmo said. "Don't worry, it's not going to last."

"I know, we've already passed the walking simulator part of the Bioshock game, next up is the dakka phase."

"That, or the universe is about to massively dick with us."

"When has it ever not?"

"Good point."

"You think we'll reach the surface before the action begins?"

"Hopefully. I don't want to fight down here with all the fucking spiders around."

They both laughed before the oppressive silence return, sallying forth to reclaim its dominion from the two loud interlopers. It managed to reclaim its hold for a few fleeting minutes before Tangmo and Laura began speaking again.

"We hear drums, drums in the deeper." Laura recited the last line from the Book of Mazarbul.

"They are coming…" Tangmo checked the integrity of his AA-12 as he spoke the final passage of the doomed journal. "They are coming…"


	7. It's Just a Dream

_**About ten hours before Tangmo and Laura arrives in the Bioshock universe.**_

* * *

The past were like scars, a blemish seared deep into the skin, eternal and untouchable. They heal with time but never truly fades, an imperfection brandished like a stigmata or a badge of honor for some so inclined to such visceral recognition. Some scars however were invisible, for they do not exist on the shallow shores of the flesh but within the depth of one psyche where an individual true essence was formed and cultivated. Given the right catalyst these scars within the darkest ravine of one's memory will stirred from its stygian rest, unleashing ghosts thought buried and forgotten.

Rapture and Columbian were nothing but ruins now, yet their phantoms refused to leave Elizabeth in peace. Sleep granting no sanctuary from these haunting revenants as they forced her to relived the horror of the doomed utopia with extreme lucidity.

She would found herself inside Comstock's house, where doctors in bloody gown would drag her squirming form to an operating theater, strapped her to a rough leather chair reeking musty rust, and proceed with her dissection. At the edge of her vision stood Comstock, watching with nothing but pure satisfied exaltation as the scalpels parted her skin, her broken pleading music to his ears.

Other times she would be tied to a rotting chair, a single glaring bulb illuminating the leering Atlas as he walked nonchalantly up to her bound body, hammer and pick twirling in his hands. Eye rolling in panic desperation as rough fingers forced the lid opened, Elizabeth could only watched in horror as the sharp pick scraped across the wet membrane of her eyeball until the point came to rest on her skull. Then the hammer swung down to a twinkling chime, every stroke more painful than the last, the pick digging deeper. All the while she could see Atlas cackling face, enjoy every seconds.

Every night Elizabeth would wake with a shrill, rapturous scream, body flailing to banish the invading nightmare creatures. Even in waking the pain lingered, her sweat sheathed body could feel where the tools of unmaking had left its searing kisses. Her cry torn and torturous, Elizabeth would weep until another restless sleep come to claim her. But in that moment of deepest despair, a strange sensation would broke through the miasma of misery. Tensing at first, Elizabeth braced herself for another bout of abuse only to find nothing but soothing calm rushing over her frightened form, coming in soft stroking waves.

Through teary eyes, the image that greeted Elizabeth was that of Eleanor gazing down at her, face stricken with worry as she slowly ran a cool palm over her back, humming a tranquil trance that slowly stilled her shivering body. Never having a mother to care for her, Elizabeth wasn't familiar with such intimacy, but quickly found it to be greatly therapeutic.

Once the sobbing ceased Elizabeth would, almost on instinct, scooted closer until her head was rested firmly on Eleanor laps, who wordlessly complied with her silent request for company. In that warmth and comfort, the dark manifestations retreated back to their lair, leaving her finally in peace.

She would wake the next morning, refreshed, to the sight of Eleanor still fast at sleep, back propped at an awkwardly angle on the headboard. It wasn't until they began to stir that the creaking sore made itself known, hard pillow of woods and bones wasn't exactly a good choice for sleep as it turned out.

Elizabeth wondered how she could have survived those first few months if she hadn't taken Eleanor offer to stay. Using her impeccable knowledge on the human mind, something Eleanor begrudging inherited from Sofia Lamb, she managed to heal Elizabeth psychological trauma.

It was by no mean an easy journey, but after three months the violent nocturnal disturbance dissipated, nothing now but lurking shadow pushed to the furthest reaches of her mind. Although sleep now came blessedly easy for Elizabeth, Eleanor had suggested that they shared the bedroom in case there was a relapse.

Naturally, she was reluctantly to the idea at first. Two young women sharing an abode were tolerable, but sharing a bedroom was downright scandalous and inappropriate. But she relented eventually, Eleanor was nigh unstoppable if she really pressed for something, and Elizabeth did have to admit that her logic was sound. And so, two single beds were squeezed into a medium size bedroom, a nightstand wedged between them.

Things went well as the months passed, Elizabeth adjustment into this new time period was an adventure in itself, Eleanor ready and eager to guide her through this strange era that, the younger woman admitted, she herself haven't quite grasped in totality.

But without presage, the dream returned.

Not the violent recollection of Rapture and Columbia, but something Elizabeth herself can't fully explain.

For many nights now, these strange dreams had come to her in broken disjointed pieces of flashing images. Vague sequences of sights and sounds both magnificent and terrifying to behold, fading to a gray mist before Elizabeth could get a good long look.

Tonight was different however, for Elizabeth did not found herself in the dark chromic landscape chasing ephemeral specter of formless things, but striding within those strange places itself.

It looked and felt so real, like stepping through a Tear. The sensation, the smell, the acoustic was pronounced and almost touchable as she beheld the unfamiliar panorama.

Blinking, Elizabeth took in her surrounding, scanning the alien scenery from horizon to horizon. She appeared to be on some kind of craggy plain, gravels and fine sands crunching beneath her high-heeled boots, irregular dunes of jagged rocks breaking the monotony of the flatland. It was night, but the plain was bathed in warm neon blue, flickering strongly before fading like a lamp exhausting its oil. Turning, she saw the source of the light. Comets, blazing bright sapphire in stunning multitude arched up from the plain, ascending lazily up into the starry sky, the stars surrendering to its vicious glare. Elizabeth was captivated by the out worldly display, savoring every moment of the beautiful and wondrous sight.

So mesmerized that she failed to hear the crawling scrapes of a thousand needle feet thumping across the barren field, rising in deafening cadence as an inhuman shriek shattered the mystic tranquility. Jumping in fright Elizabeth shifted her attention to the jagged noise, what she saw made her blood ran cold. It was…an insect of some sort, but more terrifying than anything she had ever beheld. It was huge, twice taller than a man, its arachnid like limbs of greenish black appeared to be made entirely out of sharpened blades. Its head, or what Elizabeth assumed was the head, was shaped like a scissor with its tip bended down and up, a parody of a mouth.

And it was not alone.

The ground quivered as more pushed themselves through the ashen ground, like maggots burrowing out of a rotten cadaver. Tormented choir blared in shattering cacophony, Elizabeth covered her ears but the dreadful sound was unrelenting.

Then they began moving, turning the cobalt peninsular into a churning and writhing mass stampeding across the plain like an army of hungry ants hell bent on devouring all in its path. And the only thing within the reach of their sharp appendages was her.

Spinning on her heel, Elizabeth bolted in the opposite direction and ran toward a hill looming in the distant. But the tide drew closer. She could hear their mad squeals drawing nearer no matter how hard she urged her legs on. They would be upon her soon, the sound of slicing blade growing sharper, blaring through her thumping heart.

Slumping at the foot of the hill, her haggard breath coming in quick hot pants, Elizabeth saw the wall of stabbing, slashing insect rushing forth like devouring tide. She was about to scream when a thunderous roar erupted behind her, a rumbling hymn of a thousand voice rising in rousing defiance against the oncoming horde. The bangs of peppering gunfire echoed across the hill, loud and uninterrupted as Elizabeth beheld shapes charging down the hill, lighted up by the flashing muzzles of their long, strange looking rifles.

They were soldiers. Men and women clad in gray uniform, firing from the hip as they ran head on into shrieking swarm.

"Come on you apes! Do you want to live forever?!" Elizabeth heard someone shouted over the din as the two lines of men and insects collided, red blood mixed with green cascading in brilliant streaks, whipping across the night sky to an agonizing concerto of the dead and dying.

Trapped at the epicenter of the engulfing battle with nowhere to run, Elizabeth dropped to her knees, closed her eyes and screamed, bracing herself for the inevitable stampede that would crushed her into pulping meat. But the pain never came as the agonizing sound died away suddenly, the trampling concussion receded to a calm stillness.

Opening her eyes Elizabeth found herself staring down at a bright, gray pavement, the sudden shift from the nocturnal plain to a sunny day stung her vision. Adjusting to the light, Elizabeth now found herself within the shadows of towering skylines. Dusting the last grainy residue off her white blouse and blue skirt ensemble, eerily identical to the one she wore when Booker crashed in her tower, Elizabeth looked around and knew immediately where she was.

Time Square, New York City.

She had read and saw pictures of the Big Apple in abundance, and even though the world famous landmark still retained the familiar roads and building placement, it was the dazzling exterior that gave Elizabeth paused.

Brightly lit canvas of flickering neon adorned the side of every building in a cramp, unfitting jumble, chaotically mashed together to use what little space was available. It was so different from the New York of her time.

Stranger still was that every one of these canvases bore the same unmoving columns of white, yellow, light blue, light green, purple, red, blue and black. A single high pitched note rang without pause to swallow other sounds within the vicinity. It was just then that Elizabeth realized that the place was deserted, the bustling junction void of any sign of the usual busy rush of humanity.

What was going on?

Her answer came with a whistling of sharp descend and the fiery destruction of the New York Time Tower, the blast sending her barreling backward down the pavement, pieces of glass and concrete whizzing over her. Hammering pain ringing in her skull, Elizabeth rose unsteadily just in time to see an encompassing cloud of dust rushing at her. Running once again, Elizabeth staggered on sluggishly, her lungs and muscles have yet to recover from the insect army stint.

Seeing an alley to her right, Elizabeth leapt into the shielding shadow between the brick buildings. Breathing heavily, hot sweet air filling her lungs, she turned in time to see the shuddering brown torrent rushing pass.

As she steadied herself, Elizabeth now heard other sounds. Terrified screams, rattling gunfire and the concussive battery of pounding explosions, the drumming staccato that she had grown accustomed to during her exodus across Columbia with Booker.

A dark shadow crept over her then, ominous and encompassing. Snapping her head upward Elizabeth could see gigantic dark shapes marring the clear sky, moving slowly in tight cluster like a herd of soaring whale.

For a few seconds Elizabeth thought she was reliving one of the possible futures, more specifically the one where she submitted to Comstock's teaching after years of torture and indoctrination. Where she had led the full military might of Columbia on to the unsuspecting surface and put it to the fire.

However, upon closer scrutiny Elizabeth saw that this armada was not of the dreaded flying city, both to her relief and trepidation.

It was an airship of some kind, not the fast moving one powered by the Lutece fields but a blimp with clear resemblance to the tragic Hindenburg that she had read about at the Mercy Fall library. The high soaring altitude was preventing Elizabeth from getting a better look at the hulking flying machines, but even then she saw with horrific clarity the deadly payload emptying out of its bowels, pillars of fire erupting where it had fallen in an earthshattering explosion.

Elizabeth was quickly on the move again, running blindly as the deafening concussion boomed mercilessly around her, unending in its symphony of destruction, the faint backing choir of misery providing the mourning backdrop.

She could vaguely hear the sound of gunfight, some close, some distant, fierce and brutal as the bombardment finally eased off, the bulky blimps climbing higher in sharp rising angle.

"You! Stop!" A shout rang from the down the ruined street, thick and rough. Startled, Elizabeth could make out five men clad in a thick brown uniform about thirty feet away, training their machine guns on her, a bright red and yellow emblem of the hammer and sickle emblazoned their shoulders.

Soviet troops? In New York?!

"Put your hands up!" Another shouted, his accent even worse than his comrades.

Not one to respond positively to threat and aggravation, Elizabeth dashed toward a nearby car and ducked behind it as the soldiers discharged their weapon in an indiscriminate salvo. Bullets came in ferocious but inaccurate hail, peppering the car into a hole ridden scrap, none of the shot even came close to hitting her.

"Get the American!" The gruff command was answered by thumping boots rushing toward her. Elizabeth was scuttling to her feet when more gunshots rang out, forcing her back behind the ruined car, not daring to lift her head above the rim. The exchange was blessedly short this time, ending in spluttering grunts and the heavy thuds of toppling bodies. Slowly easing herself above the car's battered hood, Elizabeth was shocked to see the five soldiers now sprawled all over the street, a widening pool of blood forming around their unmoving body.

"Hey! What are you still doing here?" A woman, most definitely American, shouted at her. Spinning to the face the speaker, Elizabeth was surprised to see a buxom brunette wielding a smoking pistol in each hand. Her attire of military green tank top and fatigue cargo pants was uncomfortably liberal, with her navel exposed and the taunt fabric leaving nothing to the imagination.

"I…Uh…" Elizabeth stammered for words, fighting down the urge to reprimand the woman for wearing such revealing outfit. Not smart considering that she was armed.

"Oh for Christ sake! Just get your ass down to the shelter and stay there!" The woman roughly shoved her down the street.

"Hey!"

"Go already! Things are about to get really hot around here."

As if on cue, the sky began darkening again, the blimps returning in greater multitude than before. But they were not alone this time. Under its hull were airplanes, hundreds of them, flying in tight formation beneath the hulking leviathan like an accompanying schools of fish. Black dots began pouring from the aircraft when the blimps renewed their bombardment, white canvases of parachutes unfurling en masse as new waves of soldiers began descending slowly to ground.

"Oh! Shake it baby!" The brunette crooned hungrily before raising her pistols to the sky and began firing, every shots answered by a screaming soldier plummeting to his death.

Elizabeth did not wait to see what happened next, a second burst of energy propelling her away from the unfolding carnage, the world blurring into a continuous mass of shapes and colors, a formless swathe as she sprinted down the road.

Clarity returned with a piercing, diving whistle.

Eyes snapping skyward, Elizabeth saw one of the blimps looming over her, a bomb careening down in sharp glittering flashes as the metallic exterior caught the yellow sunlight, screaming like an eagle swooping down on its prey.

The bomb exploded in a brilliant rolling fire a mere twenty yards away, the force ramming Elizabeth off her feet as light dimmed around her, everything muting to a low hum. There was no searing pain or the smell of charcoal clothes and flesh, just an ephemeral heat ghosting over her. Lying still for a moment, Elizabeth collected herself before rising lethargically to observe yet other new surroundings.

God, when was she going to wake up?

Elizabeth now found herself inside a large, vaulted chamber of some sort, the curved ceiling and protruding buttresses reminding her of a cathedral, but grander in scope and design. The hall shimmered a subdued glow, golden and warm, braziers in countless numbers lined the black pillars of…steel? Elizabeth took a step closer, curious, and ran her hand up and down the polished surface slowly. Steel, not marble, but it was nevertheless coarse and deadly cold to the touch.

A humming resonance resounded across the vast interior, a solemn melody tinged with sadness and devotion. It took a moment but Elizabeth soon recognized that it was a chant similar to the Gregorian hymn, different in tones and tunes but still alike in so many ways.

Carved into the surface of each pillars were heavenly effigies showing scenes of great sanguine importance, with the most prominent figure in each mural being a stony face, long haired man in bulky gilded armor of gold. Congregated around him were saints like figures clad in similarly huge attire cleansing demonic foes in fires, swords and guns.

Guns? What kind of saints uses guns?

Prying her eyes from the morbid edifice, Elizabeth spun around and gasped, hands rising to cover her mouth in fright. At the epicenter of this sanctified place was a golden throne the size of a two storey building, and seated atop it was a towering corpse, leathery strips of skin and sinews hanging from a decaying emaciated body, cables, wires, and tubes clung to it like some demented puppet strings.

Elizabeth felt sick, fear and revulsion twisted a knot in her guts as she slowly backed away from the macabre monarch, the hollowed out sockets following her shaky retreat. A church devoted to something so unnatural cannot be good.

Then she heard footsteps, heavy thumping closing in around her like a thunderstorm. Figures began materializing, black shadows parting the light's soothing hue. They were men, broad and stacked with mountains of muscles standing close to nine feet tall, moving with an astonishing swiftness that betrayed their large body mass, the fire in the braziers barely stirred at their passing. They wore black conical helmet studded with red plumes and an ensemble of black boots, breeches and cloaks, chest bared and unabashed of their godlike physique.

"Daemon!" One of three she saw shouted, his booming voice shook the hall.

"No, wait!" Elizabeth didn't even have time to plea as the three rushed forward with a murderous battle cry. They were upon her before she could even blink, halberds raised for the killing blow.

Elizabeth raised her hand toward the attacker with an earsplitting cry, a feeble gesture but what else could she do?

The carving blow never came for, once again, the scenery changed. The high ceiling church and its golden glow dying away like a snuffed candle, darkness reigning supreme. Composing herself, Elizabeth let out a slew of unladylike curse, getting really tired of this continuous shift in reality.

It was craggy desolate landscape of midnight black, deadly cold and eerie in its soundless solitude. Elizabeth found herself shivering. There was something ominous about this place, the unspeakable quality that transcended the physical into the spiritual. Stars in uncountable masses shone from above, the cloudless sky glittering like a magnificent chandelier. Galaxies of all spectrums and shapes drifted lazily above, its brilliant inexhaustible light illuminating the world in faint silver.

Yet the starry sight brought her no comfort, the overwhelming sense of creeping dread digging its shivering claw deep into her skin.

At this point, Elizabeth was now aware of a reoccurring pattern to these nightmares. One such predictability was the fact every time she spun around there always seems to be, with an absolute, borderline cliché certainty, something waiting behind her.

And she wasn't disappointed.

Behold, a mundane looking throne of polished grey marble, a lonely obelisk amongst an endless expanse of nothingness, a rather weird choice to place a seat of power. Seated upon it was a man of unearthly beauty, his pristine porcelain face was perfection made manifest, framed by long silken hair of deepest dark that blended with the dim background.

"Um…Hello?" Elizabeth approached him, finding it impossible to take her eyes of his alluring visage.

The man gave no answer, unmoving as he regarded her with such unblinking intensity that caused Elizabeth to freeze in her tracks. Those eyes, deep, piercing and cold like the dominion he held sovereign over was beyond unsettling, revealed a lurking malice underneath his divine exterior.

He rose gracefully from his throne, moving with a noble demur of high aristocracy, silken rope of silver trimmed black cascaded over the rocky earth in rolling waves of ebon. Then he took a step forward Elizabeth, his footfall making no sound, so poised was his bearing that he appeared to float over the landscape as their distant closed with alarming speed.

"Stay back!" Elizabeth staggered backward, noticing now that there was a predatory glint in his gaze. Not the leering kind, but one that a lion gave before pouncing a gazelle, his movement unhurried and calm.

"Don't come any closer!" Elizabeth warned as she spotted a fist size rock clattering against her retreating stiletto. Not in any way an adequate tool of self-defense but her option was a tad limited at the moment.

"I'm warning you!" Elizabeth scooped it off the ground and arched back her arm, poised and ready to ruin the pretty face.

And to her surprise, he did stop.

Pausing in his advance, Elizabeth tightened her grip on the craggy rock once she saw that he was observing her with a hint of curiosity. Then his eyes moved. The black pit darting so suddenly to the right that the rock almost flew from her shaky grasp. Following his gaze, it took Elizabeth a moment to realize what was now the focal of his undivided scrutiny, the silver thimble that covered the stub of her pinky, the source of her reality bending power.

Not waiting for a response. Elizabeth chucked the rock at him, hoping to catch him off guard before he attempted anything. He caught it midair, his hand a shadowy blur as it intercepted the projectile, as nonchalant as shooing away a fly.

Then he grinned, wicked and twisted, teeth barred like a snarling wolf, exuding such overwhelming malevolence that it made every evil in Rapture and Columbia pale in comparison, the rock crushed to specks of wispy dust in his grip.

He resumed his advance then, slower but with more weight, the world shaking with every heavy stride. Fire began washing over his body, running up the tip of his delicate fingers and the hem of his rope to immolate him. But in its fiery wake wasn't blackened blistered skin, instead a gleaming armor had materialized to cover his slender frame, piece by piece until his entire body was encased inside a demonic panoply, his rope fizzling to sooty dust. His smile had taken a demented dimension when the fire consumed his face, burning furiously for a moment before solidify into a monstrous helm, his now glowing saurian eyes a fierce inferno behind the slit of his visor.

Elizabeth ran. Her heels scraping hard against the rocky ground as she rushed for the refugee of the darkness beyond. Glancing back, Elizabeth saw that the man was only a couple of steps behind her despite his bulky armor and the casual pace of his stroll.

Was he really that fast or was she really that slow?

Elizabeth contemplation came to a halt when her body rammed hard into something sturdy and metallic in nature. Swaying from the impact, Elizabeth stared ahead and found herself almost weeping in despair.

Another figure stood before her, cloaked in a tattered black robe that shrouded his face in unreachable darkness. Atop his head was a crown of spikey thorn, the battered dirty iron exuding an inhuman menace. His gauntleted hand reached toward his hip and unsheathed a long sword, the steel rasping a shrill cry as the blade ignited in a hellish conflagration, the heat washing over her in searing gusts.

"No! Please! Don't!" Elizabeth stumbled and fell on her posterior, hand held forward in abject pleading as the tip hovered a few inches from her throat, the fire caressing her skin.

"Iuk avhiuk lav-li maukaver?" The hooded figure spoke in a guttural language, every syllables coarse and rough.

"Yeuk, wiavch-kaumn," the man replied in the same tongue, but richer and raspier. "Ukhe iuk avhe ni."

Looming over her, the armored man slowly reached his hand toward her cowering form, a hungry maw of clawing steel radiating such biting frost that it put Old Man Winter to shame.

"No! Go away!" Elizabeth screeched to no avail.

"I…SEE…YOU." His voice reverberated across the barren tundra like the banging of an evil gong that chimed doom and death.

Eyes shut, Elizabeth held up her arms feebly and screamed as darkness engulfed her.


	8. The Reunion

"No!" Elizabeth bolted awake with a shriek, fumbling inside her duvet in a desperate battle against unseen foe, kicking and slapping until she careened down the side of her bed.

"Elizabeth?" Eleanor rose groggily, scrambling toward the lamp on the nightstand, hand swathing unsuccessfully a few times before finally finding the switch, the soft neon glow banishing the gloom. Scratching her sleepy eyes, the sight that greeted Eleanor was Elizabeth sprawled on the floor between their beds, tangled inside her white cotton duvet, arms and legs flailing feebly.

"Oh thank God." Elizabeth heaved a heavy sigh as Eleanor climbed down and began freeing her from the knots of canvas.

"Another nightmare?" Eleanor tugged at the sheet, concern plain on her face. "And it's been so long since that last one."

"No, it wasn't a nightmare," freed from the entanglement, Eleanor helped Elizabeth up on her bed. "I mean, I guess you can call it that, but it didn't have anything to do with Rapture or Columbia."

"Really? That's interesting," Eleanor came to sit beside her. "Must have been pretty intense though, you look really scared."

"You have no idea." Elizabeth laughed dryly and rearranged the disheveled mess of her hair. Since exiting the Vita-Chamber the brunette shade has return, now grown passed her shoulders like how it was before her exodus from Columbia, the black dye she had donned while in Rapture were snipped away at the first opportunity. She never liked that color any way.

"What time is it?" Elizabeth yawned.

Eleanor turned to the clock on the wooden nightstand. "It's three in the morning."

"Ugh, too early." Elizabeth moaned and slumped back on her pillow.

"Agreed." Eleanor returned to her bed and turned off the light, plunging the world into a sudden absolute darkness.

Elizabeth pulled the blanket tighter around her as the chilly wind picked up, seeping quietly through the slightly ajar window.

"I'm sorry I woke you." Elizabeth spoke up, sleep eluding her.

"Don't worry about it," Eleanor said, fidgeting to find the right sleeping position. "I'm just glad it's not a relapse."

"It's like I've been teleported through a Tear," Elizabeth continued. "Not in the physical sense mind you, but it was as if my consciousness was channeled through space and time."

"You mean like an out of body experience?" The rustling stopped, and despite the absence of light she could feel Eleanor's eyes on her.

"More like astral-projection," Elizabeth turned to face her. "But it all felt so real. It was as if my mind had manifested itself onto an entirely different plain of existence. And I wasn't just some bystander either, I was living and breathing in those places like I was really there."

"It's plausible." Eleanor reasoned. "Given your unique quantum standing, I think that it is very likely you would be able project your awareness further and stronger beyond the fabric of reality. Even if it's on the subconscious level."

Elizabeth brow irked at that. "Have you been reading the Lutece's book again?"

As a parting gift of some kind, the twins had their magnum opus delivered to their home.

"I picked it up once in a while when I'm bored," Eleanor was more than likely smirking. "Nice little light reading, but dreadfully out of date though. Einstein and Hawking would complement the framework they've set up quite nicely."

"I don't think Rosalind would be very pleased to hear that," Elizabeth chuckled.

"From what I read, madam Lutece doesn't sound like someone who copes too well with differing opinion," Eleanor gave a giggle of her own.

An interlude of silence passed between them, neither woman uttering a sound as they waited for sleep to come. It was Eleanor who resumed the conversation.

"…What did you saw exactly? In your dream that is."

Elizabeth went still as those terrible moments replayed with stunning vividness in her mind. The screaming insect horde, New York in flames, the corpse on the throne, and that monstrous thing that tried to grab her. Suddenly the dark felt both oppressive and obtrusive.

"I…would really prefer if we discuss this in the morning," Elizabeth said meekly, still quite unnerved by the ordeal. "When its more bright out."

"If you say so." Eleanor gave long drawn yawn, followed by a few rustles as she turn away. "Goodnight Elizabeth."

"Goodnight Eleanor." Drowsiness came quick in the enclosing dark and Elizabeth quickly found herself drifting into a dreamless sleep.

By the time her eyes fluttered open it was already eight in the morning, dusty lances of sunlight bathed the room in warm golden hue, a refreshing heady aroma of summer whiffed over her. Stretching lazily on the soft mattress, Elizabeth rose reluctantly, blinking away any lingering sleepiness.

Taking a few deep breaths, Elizabeth quietly made her way to the bathroom, stifling a laugh as she tiptoed pass Eleanor, still fast at sleep, duvet and pillow scattered in a chaotic rumple as she lay across the bed in a very undignified manner. Elizabeth didn't have the heart to wake the poor girl. It was getting rather hot, a nice cold shower would do a world of good. 

* * *

"And then he reached his hand at me and said 'I see you' in a very maniacal manner. That was when I screamed and woke up."

Eleanor sat with her spoon dangling above her cereal bowl, breakfast forgotten as she listened to the animated Elizabeth recounting last night nocturnal disturbance.

"Whoa…" Was all Eleanor could mustered.

"Exactly." Elizabeth nodded and took another spoonful of sugar frosted breakfast.

"That was very vivid." Suddenly remembering her own food, Eleanor plucked the spoon into her mouth, chewed quickly then swallowed.

"So…does this dream mean anything?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. "Some hidden meaning of underlying psychological impulses maybe?"

"None that I can think off," Eleanor admitted after a mouthful. "It wasn't abstract or subtle, but pronounced and direct which leave very little to be analyze."

"Oh…" Elizabeth look disappointed but pressed on playfully. "So what would be your diagnosis?"

"Could be indigestion," Eleanor grinned but Elizabeth was far from amused. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Guess we have to see what the Lutece have to say on this."

"So you think this have something to do with my power?"

"Seems like the only logical explanation."

Elizabeth's visage was thoughtful as she dapped her lips daintily with a napkin before placing down her spoon, prim and proper like, scholarly expression quickly morphing into one of deep solemnity.

"It felt…different." Elizabeth began unsurely.

"How so?" Eleanor inquired, finishing her bowl in quick gusto of shoveling spoon and loud slurping. She gave the mortified Elizabeth an apologetic smile for the voracious display.

"Sorry." Eleanor wiped her reddened face. "Better?"

"Much better." Elizabeth smiled.

"So where were we?"

"I don't think what I saw were possible futures, but something entirely different. When I still possessed omniscience, there were underlying familiarities that I would recognize when perceiving the various possibilities of each realities, a pattern of technologies or events that resonated with every variation, a man, a city, a lighthouse, a girl for example. But what I saw in my dream…"

"I understand what you mean," Eleanor nodded. "A lot of it did sound rather fantastical."

"Well, some would say that what we've been through sounded rather ridiculous also," there was a mischievous glint in Elizabeth's eyes, the one that flared when she felt she was getting an upper hand on an argument. "Big Daddies, Handymen, plasmids, vigors, people shooting bees and crows out of their palms, all of that sounded pretty fanciful, don't you think?"

"But giant bugs fighting human?" Eleanor couldn't hide her disbelief. "Sounds like that awful ant movie we saw last month."

"You were the one that wanted to go," Elizabeth gave a snarky raise of a brow.

"That's beside the point!" Eleanor waved her off briskly. "It just a little farfetched that's all. The one about a Soviet invasion seems like the most plausible scenario out of everything you saw though."

"I know." Elizabeth concurred. "But even then there was something unusual about the whole thing."

"Like how the Russian used their military spending on developing zeppelins instead of atomic bombs," Eleanor chuckled lowly. "Looks like Andrew Ryan prediction of a nuclear holocaust never came to pass."

"Instead we got what looked like a third World War, not exactly a good trade off," Elizabeth added glumly.

"Then we have the corpse on the throne…"

Elizabeth flinched at the mere mention of that horrid thing, even Eleanor had to admit that she was rather perturbed by the notion of such a grotesque idol.

"It was horrifying Eleanor," Elizabeth continued with no small amount of revulsion. "It wasn't a church that worshipped some heavenly prophet or an altar of adulation for a mercantile philosophy. It was a dead body propped on a throne in a place of absolute sanctification. The entire place was like some holy sanctum dedicated to it."

"We both know how harmful faith can be when given the correct persuasion," with a wave of her hand, Eleanor guided their empty cereal bowls to the sink. "And there were men guarding it too, right?"

"Oh yes! Huge muscular men with big, long halberd," Elizabeth exclaimed, almost awestruck. "They must have been more than nine feet tall."

"And they were naked?"

"From the waist up, yes, they only wore these really tight black breeches."

"So how big was the bulge?"

"Oh it was very big. You can almost see everything through the tight fabrics…" Elizabeth paused when she saw the evil grin carving across Eleanor lips, realizing too late what she was just roped into.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth was beet red as she threw her napkin at the chortling Eleanor, rising quickly from her seat and stomping over to the couch, landing with a hissy huff.

"Aww, come on Elizabeth I was only having a bit of fun." Eleanor walked over to the sink and began cleaning the dishes.

"Hmph!" Elizabeth folded her arms and turned away, chin held high indignantly.

"Oh, you are such a prude Elizabeth." Eleanor smirked as she placed the clean bowl on its rack to dry, strode over to the couch and plopped down beside Elizabeth.

"I am not!"

"If you say so."

Huffing grumpily, Elizabeth snapped her head away from Eleanor and reached for a book on the coffee table, flipped it open down the middle and began the process of pretend reading.

"Come on now, we both know you're not really reading anything." Eleanor gave her a smug sideway glance, Elizabeth always used this particular silent treatment when she's crossed with her.

"What else is there? Oh yes, the handsome man in armor that tried to catch you."

Elizabeth's shoulders sagged at that, her gaze faltering as she slowly placed the book down on her lap. Sighing, she dropped the angry façade and turned to face Eleanor, the quivering frost emanating from her fearful eyes were almost palpable, so much like when the Rapture and Columbia nightmare were at its zenith. Not nearly as bad, thankfully, but alarming nonetheless.

"He wasn't handsome. He was…beautiful," Elizabeth shuddered despite the summer warmth. "His face was so perfect in every detail that it appeared unnatural, like it was all sculpted for the purpose of luring anyone who saw it into his clutches, a flower that traps any passing butterfly."

Eleanor nodded, "out of everything you told me, this one seem the most unusual. You said that the place was barren but the sky was covered in stars?"

"Galaxies, constellation, solar systems, nebulas, it was like standing at the very threshold of the cosmos," Elizabeth gave a dreamy sigh, indulging the memory. "I wished you'd been there with me Eleanor, it was so beautiful."

"With him there, no thank you," Eleanor declined the offer. "And he wasn't alone now, was he?"

Elizabeth wrung her hands nervously, "oh no he wasn't, the other one was worst by far."

"What did he look like?"

"I didn't see his face, thank God. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of monster lurked inside that hood."

"Now those two wore armor, correct? Did it look like anything from Rapture or Columbia? The design and the composition I mean."

"No, it looked more like something out of a period film, the one with knights and princesses. But what these two wore was very demonic in appearance, to say the least."

"And the hooded one had a sword that burst into flame. That does sound kinda like a product of Rapture."

"I don't recall any plasmid, or vigor for the matter, that imbued objects with fire."

Eleanor thought for a moment. "You're right, I grew up in Rapture and I never heard anything like that."

They sat in silence then, the conversation coming to a point where both realized that nothing more could be gleaned from the topic.

That bothered Eleanor.

As much as she wanted to surmise that this was nothing more than a chemical imbalance in the brain, the conclusion was less than satisfying. And she was worried about Elizabeth. If this continues it could prove to be very damaging to both her mind and body, and just when she was so close to a full recovery from the Rapture and Columbia night terror.

A reassuring hand came to rest on Eleanor shoulder then, pulling her from the frustrating conundrum and into the caring smile of Elizabeth.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she said warmly. "I'm sure it's just a bad dream caused by my unique quantum standing, as you so eloquent put it."

"Yeah, I think you might be right," Eleanor agreed resignedly, she did have a bad habit of assuming the worst in everything.

"You always worry too much you know? And besides, I'm not that fragile."

"Oh, I know you're not," Eleanor smirked before her gaze drifted to the book on Elizabeth's lap. The highly stylized cover seem out of the norm of what they usually read. "What is that?"

Flipping the book over Elizabeth read the title aloud: "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, by JRR Tolkien."

"Huh? That doesn't sound like your typical reading fancy," surprised, Eleanor took the thick book and read the synopsis on the back cover, her face scrunching in mild distaste. "This looks rather…magical."

"I know." Elizabeth admitted bashfully. "But Ms. Simons at the library thought I should branch out a little bit and be more adventurous when picking up new books."

"Well your journey to…Middle-Earth, will have to wait," Eleanor guided the hard paperback to the coffee table with her mind and rose. "It's almost nine, better get moving if we want to catch the festivity."

"You seem pretty chirpy this morning," Elizabeth observed inquisitively.

"It just so nice out today, it'll be such a shame to be cooped up inside," Eleanor replied quickly, trying her best to appear nonchalant.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes and Eleanor just prayed that her goofy smile didn't came out too weird. The fidgeting didn't help in the slightest. But with a sly grin, Elizabeth relented and walked back to the bedroom.

"I'll spruce up a bit, this will only take a minute," she called from the corridor.

Eleanor gulped with no small amount dread, knowing full well the actual length of time in Elizabeth's 'minute'. Iridescent purple pulsed on her palm and Eleanor disappeared into a cloud of smoky violet with a pop and puff of the air, vanishing from the material world. A moment of blinking darkness and she was inside the bedroom, emerging from the wispy residue of the Teleportation plasmid, facing the stunned Elizabeth standing two steps from the door.

"I'll be quick, promise!" Eleanor swung the door shut with a swipe of her hand.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth gave the floor a grumpy stomp, followed a slew of muffled, unintelligible mumbles that, judging from the tone, was anything but polite.

Ignoring the complaints, Eleanor turned to the closet and began making herself presentable for the public outing. 

* * *

It took them almost half an hour but finally Elizabeth and Eleanor were ready. Despite cutting in before her, Eleanor choice of attire had prompted Elizabeth to intervene because the raggedy ensemble was truly criminal to behold. After much fussing, the Lamb of Columbia was more than please to see that she had successfully made the Daughter of Rapture look presentable.

The black trouser, shiny brown belt and beige button shirt she had chosen was a lot better than the loose baggy pants and t-shirt that Eleanor had picked. Elizabeth herself was clad in a creamy white blouse and breezy long skirt of ocean green, her black bird brooch gleaming bright in the sun.

"You're so bossy sometime," Eleanor grumbled impishly as they walked down the gravel road. Usually Elizabeth would simply open a Tear to some secluded spot in Mercy Fall, but today was indeed very nice, so they opted for a nice little stroll instead.

"It's for your own good," Elizabeth declared proudly. "I wouldn't be a good friend if I simply allow you to waltz around in those rags."

"I should've teleport out of there when I had the chance," Eleanor pouted, and my oh my she was getting good at it.

"Well that's your fault for being too slow," Elizabeth giggled. "Now stop fidgeting, you look nice."

"Fine." Eleanor said before shifting her attention to the surrounding pines flanking the road, emerald canopy rippling softly in the warm breeze. "It really is beautiful today."

"I know." Elizabeth concurred, not a spot of cloud on the bright blue sky, a picturesque perfect day.

"So…" Elizabeth began after a moment. "Are you going to tell me what you're planning?"

"Whatever do you mean Elizabeth?" Eleanor looked at her innocently.

"Let me guess, you're setting me up on a mystery date with a handsome young man that would scoop me up in his arm and take me to see the fireworks tonight. And maybe give me a little kiss at the end of the day?"

Eleanor only snorted. "Trust me Elizabeth, it's not something so crude and corny."

"Aha! So you admit there is something!"

The look of stunned realization on Eleanor's face was priceless.

"Damn."

"So what is it?"

"It's a surprise."

"Really? Gonna tell me what it is?"

"Absolutely not. I'm not going to make it easy for you and spoil it."

"Oh come on, just tell me."

"No Elizabeth."

"Don't make me use that mind reading plasmid I got from Rapture on you."

"There's no mind reading plasmid."

"Are you sure?"

"With utter certainty."

"Oh…so are you going to tell me?"

Eleanor just smirked, "oh you'll know soon enough."

"So be it." Elizabeth surrendered with a shrug, knowing that there were no possible way to pry anything out of Eleanor if she truly wanted something kept a secret.

They strode on through the scenic landscape, trading small talks along the way when the first sign of civilization peaked through the dense wall of green and the uneven path of stones and pebbles began smoothing to a nice leveled slope of tarmac. Trees parted to reveal buildings, sturdy four storey townhouses lining the street in neat uninterrupted rows, the architecture bearing the distinct English influence from its colonial days. Patriotic red, white and blue adorned almost every surface of every houses and shops. On windows, strung across the streets, streaming from lampposts, draped over cars and even some of the more hot-blooded individuals were wearing a Star Spangle outfit for the occasion.

The Fourth of July celebration was in full swing, the usually quiet and solemn populace of Mercy Fall was now beaming with jovial exuberance, the fanfare of celebration riding the wind in loud joyous tempo, instruments blasting music at full volumes punctured by erupting cheers, the air shuddering with every blaring note.

"Here you go ladies, happy Fourth of July!" A young man in an Uncle Sam grab handed them a miniature American flag.

"Thank you." Elizabeth smiled, taking the flag and giving it a little wave.

"Jolly good old chap! Pip-pip Cheerio!" Eleanor gave a comical exaggerated reply as she snatched the flag from his hand.

Uncle Sam went still for a moment before bolting off, taking wide dramatic gait while screaming at the top of his lungs: "The British are coming! The British are coming!"

Elizabeth and Eleanor doubled over in breathless laughter, their voices mixing with the jubilation.

"Oh Eleanor, you are so mean!" Elizabeth managed between gasps of air, quickly composing herself.

"A girl like to be naughty once in a while," Eleanor gaze fell on the flag in her hand, hilarity fading. "Funny though, I never regarded myself as being English, having been born in Rapture and all."

"I know that feeling," Elizabeth empathized. "I may have been born in New York, but I've spent my entire life in Columbia that I can't really call myself an American."

"Guess that makes us children with no nation."

"Yeah, but I think we've eventually found somewhere we belong," Elizabeth grabbed Eleanor wrist and began pulling her toward the throng of festivity down the road. "Come on Eleanor, we can brood about that some other time, let's go have some fun."

"Before that," now it was Eleanor dragging her along, "we need to make a quick stop at the park first."

"Ah, the surprise I see," Elizabeth let go of Eleanor and bounded across the street, taking the lead at a lively jog. "Try to catch up!"

"I can outrun you underwater!" And sure enough, Eleanor quickly caught up to her and together they made their way through the crowd of happy, yelling people intoxicated with unfiltered merriment, and a hint of liquor.

They reached the park soon enough, a wide open space of green that marked the center of Mercy Fall, a place of relaxation beneath the wavy cool shade. Today however, this venue of tranquility was overflowing with people, every available patch of land converted into booths of games and snacks, tents of lollipop stripe blooming like flowers under swaying trees. Music and laughter filled the air, smiling children rushed pass them in an intense game of tag while older couples wrapped each other in loving embrace as they skimmed over the array of amusements.

"Brigid! Brigid!" Eleanor waved at a slender figure under a large oak tree, who returned the gesture after noticing them.

Elizabeth was taken aback to see that the woman in the reddish brown single piece dress was Brigid Tenenbaum, the genetic prodigy responsible for the atrocity that was the Little Sisters. Although it was true that she had since dedicated her life to atoning for the sins of ADAM, Elizabeth still found it difficult to be comfortable around the older woman ever since Eleanor had introduced her.

"Please be nice." Eleanor whispered meekly as they entered the shade.

"I will." Elizabeth nodded firmly, because if she was being honest Tenenbaum had been nothing but cordial to her, albeit with a hint wariness. In fact, she did take care of her legal status after coming up from Rapture. Still, Elizabeth wasn't one to easily forget the past.

"Eleanor! Guten Morgen!" Tenenbaum wrapped Eleanor in a tight, almost maternal, embrace.

"It's good to see you again Brigid."

"Likewise Eleanor, it is very good to see you," breaking off the hug, Tenenbaum turned to see Elizabeth, her smile faltering somewhat.

"Fraulein DeWitt," she extended her hand politely. "It is also good to meet you again."

"It's good to see you too," Elizabeth managed a smile and shook her hand stiffly. "Please, call me Elizabeth."

"As you wish my dear." They let go of each other hand, quicker than was necessary.

"So, Brigid, that thing we agreed upon," Eleanor began cryptically. "Were you successful?"

"Indeed." Tenenbaum replied. "After some minor difficulty, I was able to procure what you have requested."

"Ah, most excellent," Eleanor continued, glancing left and right. "So where is…"

"Oh yes! Please wait a moment, I shall return shortly." With that Tenenbaum strode away behind the tree, leaving Elizabeth with the grinning Eleanor.

"So she was in on this too?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Oh yes." Eleanor nodded.

"Should I be super excited or morbidly terrified at this gift you two have prepared for me?"

A dismissive shrug answered her. "Well I think that is totally up to you."

At that moment Tenenbaum walked back into view, and to Elizabeth surprise she was not alone. Gingerly following in the scientist shadow was a young woman about the same age as Eleanor, eyes downcast on the ground. Pale skin with blonde hair tied in a bun, she wore a creamy pink dress trimmed in scarlet, similar in design to what Tenenbaum wore but more chic and airy.

"Don't be shy now dear." Tenenbaum ushered her forward, to which the woman took a petit, almost frightened step toward Elizabeth.

Slowly, she raised her head into the dancing sunlight and Elizabeth staggered back in shock.

That pale blue eyes, that pretty heart shaped face, that childlike visage teetering on melancholia. Where has she seen that before? Who was this woman?

"Elizabeth?" She spoke with quivering uncertainty.

And with that simple word she remembered, like a misty veil lifting from a road already traveled, revealing a singular image of a little girl in tattered black dress with pearly white eyes staring back at her.

"…Sally?" Elizabeth trembled, tears welling her vision.

Nodding quickly, Sally leapt forward and threw her arms around Elizabeth just as she started crying.

"Thank you," she sobbed. "Thank you for everything, thank you."

Returning the hug, Elizabeth wept openly as she held the former Little Sister tight in her arms.

"Oh Sally." Elizabeth managed, her speech slurred by teary gasps. "Dear sweet little Sally."

She didn't know how long the hug lasted but to Elizabeth it felt like an eternity, the world surrendering its corporeal form until the entirety of existence constituted of only her and Sally, wrapped in this weeping reunion. She panicked when Sally began slipping away, the acoustic of Mercy Fall returning in a deafening rush, praying that she wasn't about to wake from a cruel dream.

She let out a shaky sigh when Sally, all grown up and blossoming into adulthood, was still there, drying her eyes with a handkerchief.

Turning around, Elizabeth saw that Eleanor was also tearing up, having watched the heartfelt moment from a respectable distance; even the usually frigid Tenenbaum was beginning to crack with emotion.

"So." Eleanor approached her, swiping away a stray droplet from her cheek. "How did you like the surprise?"

"Oh Eleanor," Elizabeth gave Eleanor a brief tearless hug. "Thank you."

"It wasn't easy you know," Eleanor stated as Sally came to stand beside Elizabeth.

"She's right." Sally began. "When Eleanor first told me about you I reacted pretty badly."

"By badly she meant yelling then slamming the phone on me and never returning my calls," Eleanor chimed in. "But eventually me and Brigid managed to convince her otherwise."

"Yeah." Sally cheeks went red. "And I'm very sorry about that by the way, I mean, I didn't know what to believe or what to do. I was excited, I was happy, but most of all I was scared." She cast a guilty look at Elizabeth, whimpers stuttering her words. "You died because of me, it was all my fault that you suffered so much. I couldn't bear to…it was all my fault…I'm so sorry."

"Oh no, no, no Sally," Elizabeth hugged her again, stifling the sobs. "If anybody is at fault it's me, I was the one that put you in danger. I'm the one that should be asking for forgiveness here Sally, not you."

Sally nodded firmly, breaking away from the hug. "Rapture was an evil place, it corrupts the best of us. No, everything had already been laid to rest at the bottom of the Atlantic, better to just move on and begin a new, with that place far from our minds."

Elizabeth and Eleanor traded looks of astonishment, surprised by this resolute side of Sally, the weepy little girl nowhere to be found in that moment. She truly has grown up well.

"She is correct," Tenenbaum was now joining them. "No good can come from dwelling in such a past, best if we just simply walk away."

Elizabeth agreed with a curt nod and cleaned that last stingy residue from her eyes before turning to Sally once more, her smile beaming like the sun after a rainy day.

"It is so good to see you again Sally."

"Same here Elizabeth. It's nice to finally see my hero in person."

A round of applause and rolling waves of 'aww' resounded around them, startling the four women who now noticed that a crowd had gathered to witness Elizabeth and Sally little reunion. The audience comprising of those lounging around the tree and passerby who had stopped to gander at the unfolding affair.

"Far out man! Beautiful!" A half-drunk long haired hippy commented from the ground.

"Oh, that is so sweet." A woman told her boyfriend, watching dreamily.

Blushing, Elizabeth managed a goofy grin and did a little curtsey before dragging away Sally by the arm, the woman paralyzed by embarrassment, Eleanor and Tenenbaum bringing up the rear.

"Oh my God, that was so embarrassing." Sally stammered as they stepped into the sun.

"Well, I thought it was very heartwarming." Eleanor gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder.

"So what now?" Elizabeth asked.

"Perhaps this would be the correct time to truly indulge in the present?" Tenenbaum offered. "This is a festival after all so why not enjoy yourselves? Admittedly it is not something I found quite to my taste, but I cannot deny the charm."

For the second time today Elizabeth found herself agreeing with Tenenbaum. Strange all things considered.

"Okay then." Elizabeth took a deep breath. "So where do we begin?"

"Well…" Sally began, "I did notice a rather interesting booth on my way here, looks pretty fun. We could start there, if you want."

Elizabeth flashed a playful grin and said: "Lead the way then Sally." 

* * *

"Aww! Come on!" Sally screamed in frustration as she missed another pole in the game of ring toss, Elizabeth standing at her side voicing words of encouragement.

"Want to go a few round Brigid?" Eleanor turned to the German scientist who rejected the offer with a shake of her head.

"It is not for me," Brigid stated. "But maybe you should help poor Sally a little bit, she is looking rather exasperated from the effort."

"Sorry, but I'm enjoying this." Eleanor actually thought about using her Telekinesis plasmid to help Sally, but decided against it on the ground of fair play and the fact that the fuming girl was pure comedy to behold.

"Oh, nice try there young lady, better luck next time." The gamekeeper said snappily as he waved forward another waiting customer, Elizabeth guiding the annoyed looking Sally back to them.

"You did well." Brigid consoled her rigidly.

"I missed every single throw." Sally said sullenly, well aware of her pathetic performance.

"But the attempt will always be worth more than the result," Brigid continued. "And I can see that you gave everything you got and did your best, that is better than any middling prizes."

That actually cheered Sally up; her eyes sparkled as she skipped to Brigid side.

"Thank you mama Tenenbaum."

As the two walked away, Eleanor turned to see a dumbfounded Elizabeth staring after them, the corner of her eye twitching slightly. She didn't know whether to start laughing or keep her mouth shut.

"Mama Tenenbaum?" Elizabeth hissed as she fell into step beside Eleanor, a good distance from Brigid and Sally.

"The Little Sisters she rescued used to call her that," Eleanor shrugged. "I guess the name stuck."

"They look quite…close don't you think?"

"Well Brigid was like a mother to most of them. Jack may have adopted a few as his own, but Tenenbaum took the rest under her wings. She taught, fed, housed and looked after them until they were finally ready to stride forth into the world. Sally was the last to leave, she's very close to Brigid you see, but I guess wanderlust got the better of her."

"I thought she came up with Jack?"

"From what I understand she elected to move in with Brigid."

"It's just hard to imagine Tenenbaum being any kind of a mother figure…" Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut just as Eleanor shot her a glare.

"Why?" She demanded.

"I didn't mean anything by it. It's just, given everything that had happened in Rapture."

"Don't be so bloody superficial." Eleanor spat more venomously than she had intended, Elizabeth looked physically struck.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth managed weakly, turning away.

Sighing, Eleanor rest a hand on Elizabeth shoulder.

"No, I'm sorry for snapping."

"I was way out of line, you were within your every right."

"It doesn't make feel any better though," Eleanor gave Elizabeth a petite pat on the head, "still, being the merciful person that I am, I forgive you."

"Thank you." Elizabeth slowly brightened.

"But only if you promise that you will try and open up to Brigid. Just a little will do. Please?"

"Alright," Elizabeth promised halfheartedly. "I will attempt to be more amiable with Dr. Tenenbaum."

Well that's a start at least. Giving Elizabeth hair one last good roughing, Eleanor turned to see an excited Sally pointing at a game booth.

"You were pretty good with guns mama, why not give it a few shot?"

Sally statement drew a rather surprised expression from the bearded man behind the booth. The countertop he stood behind was lined with life size hunting rifles, children firing pellets at targets deep inside the gallery, vying for one of the many dolls and stuffed animal prizes.

"Oh no dear, I have not touched a gun in years," Brigid waved her off. "Besides, I am only familiar with a pistol. Rifles are a bit too much for me."

"I have a handgun if you want," the bearded man offered expectantly before turning his attention to the approaching Eleanor and Elizabeth, flashing them a toothy grin.

"Good morning Eleanor, Elizabeth." He tipped the brim of his star studded top hat.

"Morning Andreas," Eleanor greeted him. "A shooting gallery? Why am I not surprise."

"Well I'm a simple man with a simple hobby," he said proudly. "And I like to share my most beloved past time with the good people of this town, its things like this that brings people together you know?"

"Indeed. And when some of these patrons become old enough, you'll have yourself a fresh batch of customers."

"Exactly!"

"These aren't…real guns, are they?" Elizabeth observed with a hint of apprehension.

"Oh no! Of course not. Well, when my pops took me to Coney Island when I was a kid it sure as hell was real. But that was a long time ago and we've become a lot more responsible since then," Andreas reassured her cheerily. "Say, why don't you give it a little whirl?"

"Oh no, I couldn't." Elizabeth declined.

"Don't worry it's perfectly safe, beside a girl need to be familiar with a gun in case the need arises."

If only he knew what Elizabeth was capable of, Eleanor thought with a grin.

"Well…"

"Half price off, because I'm always generous around pretty ladies." Call him a gun nut all you want, but you can't deny Andreas snappy salesman charm.

"Alright, if you insist," Elizabeth conceded and stepped up to the plate where two children, a brother and sister, were walking away with a disappointed scowl. There was a moment of hesitation before Elizabeth propped the rifle butt on her shoulder, the fluidity of the movement impressing Andreas.

"Might as well." Eleanor took her place beside Elizabeth, paid Andreas and cocked the firearms.

"Okay ladies here we go." He pulled a lever and metal targets in the shape of wild animals, ranging from a deer to an elephant, popped up in neat rows before them.

Lining up her sight, Eleanor aimed for the nearest target and pulled the trigger, there was a slight kick from the rifle followed by a clang as a fox target went down. Eleanor was pulling back the bolt when another target fell, the smallest and farthest away in the shape of a bunny. Shocked, she turned to see Elizabeth grinning wickedly.

Oh, she want a challenge does she? Well she's about to get one.

"Go Elizabeth!" Sally cheered as Eleanor and Elizabeth lay down quick salvo on the metallic animals, resounding peal answering every shots.

"Holy crap!" Was all Andreas could say when the last target went down with a double jangled of iron, Eleanor and Elizabeth having shot it at precisely the same time.

"Well? Who won?" Elizabeth asked, putting the gun down.

"Yeah Andreas, be fair now." Eleanor echoed her demand.

"Shit, I wasn't paying attention, you two were so good that I forgot to take the tally," he stammered nervously. "So umm…I declare both of you co-winners, yeah, that fair right? So pick your prize."

"How about that one?" Elizabeth pointed at a strange, grey cat/bear looking thing hanging in the corner. It looked big, cuddly and very huggable, especially the puffy white underbelly.

"What is this thing supposed to be anyway?" Eleanor inquired as Andreas handed Elizabeth the doll.

"Dunno." Andreas shrugged, "Amanda said she saw it through one of those strange static thing that's been popping up all over the place and got inspired. Said it was playing flute on a giant tree, she think it's a hairy troll or some damn thing."

"Interesting. Let's go Elizabeth." Eleanor was waving her over when she noticed the little girl and her brother from before, looking with forlorn longing at the prize in Elizabeth arm. The brother was trying to drag her away, embarrassed, but his sister remained firmly in place. Giving each other a quick nod, Elizabeth walked over to the puppy eye girl and handed her the fluffy troll.

"Here you go." She smiled warmly.

"Thank you!" The little girl squealed and ran off with her brother.

"That was very nice of you Elizabeth." Sally beamed with adoration.

"It was the right thing to…"

"Well, well, well, look who's decided to show up boys!"

Gritting her teeth, the bubbly good feeling in her chest popping at the sneering voice, Eleanor spun to face the speaker. A broad, crew cut youth wearing a green military uniform of those newly enlisted, a disgusting grin carved across his handsome face. She should have known that Chad and his ilk were going to be here, the chance of avoiding them completely was a providence too good to be true.

And here he comes now, swaggering around like he owned the place, half true considering his dad was the mayor.

"Lookie here boys! The two little freaks decided to leave the forest for once!" He spoke loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, his lackeys of jersey wearing idiots snickering in response.

When Eleanor and Elizabeth refused to retort, he shifted his attention to Sally and Brigid.

"And they got friends with them! Goldilocks and…the Wicked Witch of the west!"

They laughed loudly, obnoxious and poisonous as Chad started looking Sally up and down, ogling her lithe frame. Sensing his gaze, Sally quickly crept behind Brigid with a squeak.

"Don't be scare babe," Chad crooned, flashing a lechery grin. "How about you ditched the hag and let me show you a good time?"

"She is not going anywhere with you." Brigid announced firmly.

Chad only snorted before turning back to Eleanor, "I should've known you'd bring a kraut here on the Fourth of July, fucking limey."

"Go away Chad," now it was Elizabeth who spoke, her patience reaching its limit. "We're trying to enjoy ourselves."

His feature darkened then, turning to glower at Elizabeth and taking a threatening step toward her.

"Or what?" He snarled.

"This."

Eleanor flicked her wrist and the Cyclone Trap plasmid sent Chad barreling through the air, landing in a wet mud puddle Elizabeth had summoned through a Tear. Rolling like a ragdoll as he fumbled and splashed to find his footing, the four began laughing at the messy swine-like display, other onlooker joining in as Chad's friends finally hefted him upright.

"You fucking bitch!" Chad seethed and stalked toward Eleanor and Elizabeth, his intention clear. He stopped however when a gloved hand came to rest at the base of his neck, grip tightening to further creased his uniform.

"Is there a problem here Chad?" The lean, goateed face of police chief Casey Grillo appeared over Chad's shoulder, his steely expression radiating undeniable authority.

"Well?" He asked again and gave him a quick shake.

"They did this to me!" Chad pointed a shaky finger at them. "Look at what they did! I just got this clean and pressed this morning! You saw it right, guys?"

His friends bobbed their heads enthusiastically but chief Grillo ignored them and pushed Chad roughly into their ranks.

"I saw everything," he stated simply. "And what I saw was you accidentally tripping in the mud, I might have seen more, but it's a nice day out and I don't want to ruin it for anybody so I'm willing to let it pass. I suggest you leave it at that and go get yourself clean up, am I clear?"

Chad just glared at Grillo.

"Am I clear!?" The chief repeated louder.

"Fine! But my dad will hear about this." Chad spat mud at Grillo feet and stomped away with his goons trailing behind like a pack of dogs sniffing the alpha's bum.

Grillo watched him for a moment before turning back to Eleanor and Elizabeth, tipping his shiny black cap at them.

"Have a nice day ladies."

"Thanks chief." Eleanor said.

"Just doing my job mam," it was then that Grillo noticed something behind her and frowned, walking toward the object of his piercing scrutiny. "Goddamn it Andreas!"

"What?" The gun enthusiast shrugged, a revolver waving carelessly in his hand. "I was just going to scare them."

The four decided to leave the scene just as Grillo began demanding that Andreas surrender his loaded firearm, the bearded man vehemently refusing to comply.

"That could have ended badly." Elizabeth reflected after a moment.

"For us or them?" Eleanor smirked.

"Oh, for them of course. But I didn't really want to make a scene."

"I know what you mean."

"That was a very impressive display by the both of you," Brigid spoke up. "One could say that you two have been, what's the word, honing your abilities?"

"Oh yes, we've been practicing," Eleanor and Elizabeth traded knowing look before glancing at the rather perturbed looking Sally. "Hey? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a little dizzy that's all," Sally managed a smile. "I'm just not good with confrontation."

"I can see that. How about we get out of the sun for a while? It's getting pretty steamy anyway and I know just the place."

Together, they made their way out of the park where throngs of merrymakers were converging, leisurely crossing the street toward a nice homely shop, sweet creamy scent waft over them as they stepped inside.

"Welcome to Youngblood's ice cream parlor, oh! Hi Elizabeth!" A smiling red hair woman greeted them.

"Hi Mari," Elizabeth gave a friendly wave. "Table for four please."

"Sure thing, right this way." The chirpy waitress led them to a nice spot beside a large window, granting them a pleasant view of the celebration but without all the noise and people. Cool breeze from a nearby air conditioner dispelling the heat nicely.

"So, what'll you be having today?" She asked as they settled down.

"The usually for us please." Elizabeth told Mari.

"Extra scoop for me Mari." Eleanor piped up.

"Sure thing! What about you two?" She turned to Brigid and Sally, the younger girl squinting hard on the menu.

"I will have a double scoop of Neapolitan ice cream please." Brigid made her choice, and a very economic one Eleanor observed.

"Umm…I think will have the lava strawberry delight with extra berry please." Sally handed the menu back to her.

"I'll tell Thomas to get right on it." Mari spun on her heel and sprung toward the counter, where her husband, also sporting the same bright red locks, began assembling the icy confectionery.

"Oh, this place is nice." Sally sighed and sank back into the cushioned chair.

"I knew you like it." Eleanor was pleased to see the girl relaxing after the unfortunate meeting with Chad.

"So…Ms. Tenenbaum," Elizabeth spoke up, drawing a guarded look from the doctor. "How have things been with you lately?"

"Quite well all things consider," Brigid responded evenly. "Thank you for asking Elizabeth."

"That's very good to hear," Elizabeth appeared uncertain for a moment before continuing. "I understand that you have entered into a domestic relationship with another survivor from Rapture. A mathematician if memory serves."

"Oh, you must mean Charles. I suppose you can say that we have worked out a sort of partnership."

"Marital?"

"Heavens no, more like joint research with the shared goal of ending the ADAM sickness."

"And where is he now, if you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, he has decided to take Anne, Courtney and Sarah on what you call a road trip. To Mount Rushmore if I remember correctly, to get into the spirit of the occasion."

"That's nice, I would love to visit there some day."

Eleanor can't help but smile, seeing how Elizabeth was truly trying to open up to Brigid, the two putting aside their mutual distrust for this momentary truce. Mira soon reemerged with a tray full of creamy delight, placing the splendidly colorful orders down on the table. They ate cheerfully, a cherry sorbet swirl for Eleanor and a chocolate mint combo for Elizabeth, the cool treat a good remedy for the summer heat.

"So what is it that Charles is working on? If you would indulge me," Elizabeth began after a mouthful of frosty green mint. "I admit that I don't quite fully understand."

"It is a new field, computer science I believe he calls it." Brigid said.

"Computer?"

"Automate machine. Through the input of mathematical algorithm we can program the device to assist us in solving complex problems and equations."

"And these computers are powered by ADAM, like the Thinker?"

Brigid shot her a look. "No dear, most of the ADAM in our possession are of too little quantity to be of any significant use beside that of research and data gathering. You need not worry."

"Still, you have to admit that the prospect of a machine that can think for itself is rather frightening, don't you think?"

Eleanor swallowed nervously, why was this beginning to sound like an interrogation?

"Well, Charles is very far away from recreating something as complex and grand as the Thinker, the resources needed for such undertaking would be astronomical, beyond what we have. I appreciate your concern, but in the end it is however unfounded."

"From my experience, mundane limitations are rarely an obstacle for…driven scientist."

"Perhaps, but rest assured that you will be the first to know if we make any significant breakthrough, since you seem so enraptured in the subject."

"So! Sally! How have you been?" Eleanor butted in before things escalated. "Good I hope? How's schools and friends and what not?"

"Oh yes! I'm doing very well thank you!" Also picking up on the friction, Sally quickly fell in sync with Eleanor. "I'm the top of my class but at the detriment of my social life. But that's okay, because I very much prefer to be alone."

"I see."

"Remember that vinyl I gave you? Is it still there?"

"Of course Sally, we take very good care of it. Although we don't really play it anymore since we got the Songbird herself to give a live performance at the drop of a dime," Elizabeth face scrunched up in annoyance at that, she really didn't like that nickname.

"I remember when I was so attached to it. Poor Masha, I got into a fight with her when she tried to take it away, I roughed her up pretty bad."

"You broke her nose and split her lips," Brigid deadpanned. "She would not stop crying for an entire night, and since then she's been very uncomfortable around you."

"If you see her next time, can you tell her I'm still very sorry about what happened?"

"As always."

They continued eating in comfortable silence, finishing the creamy dessert without any further altercation between Elizabeth and Brigid. It was then that Sally began speaking again, waving a finger between Eleanor and Elizabeth.

"You two look so much alike, like sisters almost."

"Constants and variables." Elizabeth winked at Eleanor, who chuckled in response.

"Huh?" Sally was stupefied by the statement, which only made them giggled harder like children hiding secrets from their parents. It was in this moment that Mr. Youngblood emerged from behind his counter and walked over to a table behind Elizabeth, taking out his notepad.

"Welcome to Youngblood's ice cream parlor, can I take your order?"

"I believe I will have a supreme deluxe parfait with extra whip cream please, I feel like indulging myself." A voice, sharply British to the astonishment of Eleanor, announced. At hearing the woman, Elizabeth head shot up like a startled rabbit, face paled and contorted into one of abject horror.

"And what about you sir?"

"I think I will share with my sister," said another Briton, this one male and sounding almost identical to his female counterpart.

"Okay, but it will take some time."

"Time is of no objection to us."

"Both in the figurative and literal definition."

"Right…just hang tight then." Mr. Youngblood step away unsurely, retreating to his frosty sanctum.

With uncharacteristic haste Elizabeth spun around to face the speakers, a pair of pale freckled face twins with ginger hair that appeared to be an exact replica of one another. It took a moment, but Eleanor quickly registered their appearance and cross referenced it with what Elizabeth had told her about the flying city of Columbia, the prim matching outfit and the haughty mannerism fit the description to a tee. It was the Lutece, in the flesh. And Elizabeth was far from thrill to see them.

"She look flabbergast, doesn't she brother?" The woman, Rosalind, turned to her copy.

"After those two, I found it somewhat reassuring that we still possess the ability to elicit such a reaction." And this must be Robert.

"Hmm, good point."

"What are you two doing here?!" Elizabeth hissed, drawing curious glance from the other patrons.

"We come bearing news." Rosalind began.

"An urgent one at that." Robert followed.

"A quantum disturbance had manifested itself."

"Unstable but very fascinating to behold, if I may say so myself."

"What did you do?!" Elizabeth demanded.

"All in good time dear." Rosalind continued as if uninterrupted.

"For now, we are just here to make sure that you remain whole and unharmed." Robert finished.

Elizabeth buried her face in her palms and groaned tiredly; even Eleanor herself was getting a tad annoyed by the twin's cryptic banter. Just bloody well get to the point.

"If it's any consolation Elizabeth," Robert stated simply. "The current happenstance also concerns your friend Eleanor."

"I'm sorry, what?" Now it was Eleanor to be flabbergasted, the twins turning as one to look at her.

"Although we are not certain of what is causing this anomaly," Rosalind said. "It does seems to reverberate a temporal resonance that is strikingly similar to that of Rapture and Columbia, a constant hum that grew in intensity and volume with every passing moment, fighting to find the correct harmony that would allow itself to reform to a more wholesome state."

"A broken symphony trying to mend itself." Robert added.

"With a mysterious conductor to guide the scattered notes back to its place."

"Wait a minute," Eleanor held up a hand. "Are you telling me that there is a disturbance in the space time continuum being caused by something from Rapture and Columbia?"

Rosalind was impressed, "well done young lady, as expected from someone of your pedigree."

"But Rapture is a husk, how could it attempt anything of such magnitude?" Rosalind turned to meet Brigid inquisitive gaze, looking mildly surprise to see her there.

"Ah, you must be Brigid Tenenbaum," she extended her hand. "It is good to meet another esteemed woman of science, I am Rosalind Lutece and this is my brother Robert."

"Nice to meet you…" Brigid shook her hand warily, "beside some strayed note I spied from Suchong, I must admit my lack of knowledge in the field of quantum physic, but my question still stand."

"Our initial investigation narrows down the suspects to one Sofia Lamb."

At the mention of that name, Eleanor felt a ghostly cold clawing at her heart, guilt and fear digging deep until blood began seeping. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Elizabeth worried face glancing her way, hand reaching out. Eleanor took it and squeezed.

"We do not know how she is managing this, but she appears to one of the many vital machination of this quantum upheaval," Rosalind pressed on. "Nothing to fret over though."

"How can you even say that?" Elizabeth said, shocked. "You herald the storm and expected us to be calm?"

"We've enlisted help," Robert reassured them.

"Help? What kind?" Eleanor spoke, snapping out of her chilly recollection.

"The martial sort. Two individuals are on their way here to take you both to a secure location, although I would like to add that these two appeared rather unorthodox given their profession."

"Also quite rude and hubristic if you ask me." Rosalind gave her snappy input.

"Would you rather them be scare and unsure sister?"

"I suppose not."

"What good is two people against Rapture and Columbia?" Elizabeth was utterly unconvinced.

"Booker and Delta was just only one man." I sliver of a smirk creased Rosalind lips as Elizabeth fell silent.

"What about Sally and Brigid?" Eleanor waved over to the closest thing she ever had to a family.

"Irrelevant, they are just inconveniences that could hamper your security." Eleanor face darkened at Rosalind's word, heat building in her palm begging to be unleashed.

"We are not leaving them." Elizabeth ultimatum echoed Eleanor owns.

"Are you prepare to die for her a second time?"

Elizabeth looked about ready to straggle the female Lutece, but quickly reined herself in before uttering a single word with indefatigable finality.

"Yes."

The twins rolled their eyes, annoyed by this display of humanity.

"So be it." Rosalind said

"You were never one to take the easy road."

"I wonder how their chaperons are going to receive this news."

"A lot worse than us I presume…" Rosalind voice trailed off suddenly, her eyes staring blankly into nothingness, emotionless and still like a marble effigy. Then she blinked, and in that soulless visage something akin to disappointment chiseled its way across the surface.

"Darn." She uttered simply.

"And here I thought we would have more time." Robert added.

"Alas, it appears that the sand had ran out."

"Shall we sister?"

"Yes, lets."

And just like that they were gone, a fraction of a blink later and the twins had ceased to be, emptiness all that remained where they had sat less than a second ago.

"What did they mean…" Eleanor inquiry was cut short by a sharp whistling sound cutting through the din of cheering masses outside. The cries of jubilation ended with an earth shattering bang that rocked the ice cream parlor, cracks snaked along the window like jagged crystalized rivers, glasses and furniture cascading to the ground in a clamorous shatters. Then came the scream, hideous and baleful, that quickly intensified into frantic screeches as the whistling return. Peering through the fractured glass, Eleanor could vaguely make out black shapes darting across the sky, the bright cerulean now marred by rising black plumes.

"Oh no, no, no," Elizabeth stuttered, fearful eyes now fixed on the same object that had also caught Eleanor attention.

Fires.

Raining like massive meteorites, the ground spasm violently from the concussive impact, brilliant inferno rising like banner where they had fallen.

And just above them, one such flaming orb was careening toward the ice cream parlor.

There was no time to flee, just a short middling moment to despair and make peace with the Maker. Eleanor however, used that time to concoct a plan. Perhaps she could slow down the projectile with her Telekinesis, buy everyone enough time to get away and…

A distorted noise of bending reality boomed behind her, Eleanor spun around to see Elizabeth holding open a Tear, the static gray threshold wavering, moments away from collapsing.

"Come on!" Elizabeth yelled.

Grabbing Brigid and Sally, Eleanor hurled them into the Tear before leaping in after them, rolling and skidding on a cobble path. Elizabeth was the last to jump through, closing the Tear just as the fireball landed. The ground beneath them rippled like angry waves and fire painted the sky in violent, deafening conflagration. 

* * *

The cacophonic blast threw Elizabeth to the ground, ashes and soot engulfed her like rushing avalanche, the bitter stench choking and blinding. Coughing, Elizabeth tried to rise but found her hands slipping from the strangely soft and uneven ground. When a moan came, Elizabeth looked down to see that she was lying on top of Eleanor, her hand pressed firmly on the young woman face and stomach.

"Ah!" Elizabeth yelped and rolled off Eleanor, "I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"Would have been a lot worst if you haven't open the Tear," Eleanor quickly got on her feet. "Good thinking."

"Thanks." Elizabeth turned to see Sally and Tenenbaum rising shakily to their feet, dazed and groggy.

"Sally! Tenenbaum!" Elizabeth and Eleanor rushed to help them.

"Are you hurt?" Elizabeth asked, to which Sally slowly shook her head, still recovering from the shock. "What about you?"

"I think I will be fine," Tenenbaum steadied herself on Eleanor's shoulder. "Mein Gott…"

A staggering footfall crackled behind them as two figures shambled through the dusty veil. It was Thomas and Mari, sheeted in gray and crisscrossed with blood, an apparition wandering among the ruin of their home.

"Oh my God!" Eleanor rushed to the stricken couple.

"What…how?" Mari began, spluttering to convey coherent words.

"Mari look at me, Mari!" Eleanor snapped her fingers, consciousness returning to the couple in quick blinks. "You have to stay focus, okay?"

"Okay…Okay…" Mari nodded with a little more life, hand reaching up to the bloody gash on her head and wincing from the touch. "Ouch!"

"You have to get to a safe place," Elizabeth spoke, coming to stand beside Eleanor. "Things will only get worse from here on end."

"The church! That will be the safest place! Come on, let's go!" Thomas piped up and began dragging Mari along the cobbled street. With the dust settling, Elizabeth realized that they were standing behind the now smoldering ice cream parlor.

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before following the Youngblood, muffled explosion resonated its thunderous notes around them, a savage drumming ceaseless in its murderous tempo. So much like her dream the night before.

"They're going to get boxed in and massacred," Eleanor rushed to her side, voice low.

Elizabeth could only nod, watching as the red haired couple quickly made their way toward the alley mouth. "I know, but Columbia is filled with religious zealot, I doubt they'll knowingly attack a church."

"Are you sure about that?" Eleanor asked hurriedly.

Elizabeth didn't answer.

"Why don't you just open a Tear and get us out of here?"

"Something's wrong with my power. You saw what happened in the shop, I was trying to open it back to our house but it ended up in the back alley instead. Even so close I could barely keep it open."

"Your power picked a hell of a time to start acting up," Eleanor reached over to the faltering Sally and steadied her footing.

"I think the dream was a warning," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "A symptom that tells me that something was wrong with my power."

"Maybe." Eleanor just shrugged, "should've asked the Lutece…"

Mari scream cut through the air, the object of her dismay hovering closer in battering gust spewing from four engines pulsating blue fire. It was a Columbia gunship, Founders blue adorned the side.

"Mari run!" Eleanor yelled and hurled a salvo of fireballs at the flying ship, scorching the side but did little damage beyond that.

Ignoring the fleeing couple, the gunship veered its portside toward them and began descending. A boarding, or in this case, a landing.

Expecting Founders troops to charge them gun blazing, Elizabeth was shocked to see the howling malformed denizen of Rapture pouring from the gunship, weapons of wrenches, pipes, knifes and decaying firearms waving carelessly over their head, inhuman chatters seeping from blighted lips.

"Splicers?!" Elizabeth backed away fearfully, turning to see the equally stunned Eleanor captured in utter bafflement.

"It's her!" One of the thuggish splicers flashed a demented snarl, waving his cleaver at Eleanor. "It's Lamb little girl! The vessel of our rebirth, grab her!"

"I am not your bloody messiah!" Eleanor shrieked and threw a large fireball at the oncoming splicers, it exploded brilliantly and created a wall of fire between them.

But the raving madmen and women wasn't deterred by such display. With an earsplitting cry they leapt through the flame, weapons brandished maliciously, uncaring as the blazing fire seared the flesh from their bones.

With a furious roar, Eleanor used her Telekinesis plasmid to lift a large garbage bin beside Elizabeth up into the air and, muscle straining, flung it at the oncoming splicers. Three were flattened, but the other four quickened their approach.

"In here! Quickly!" Elizabeth turned to see Tenenbaum holding a door open, waving them over as Sally darted inside.

"Come on!" Taking Eleanor by the arm, Elizabeth turned and ran just as the splicers broke into a sprint. Dashing into the dark corridor, Tenenbaum slammed the door close and bolted it shut, the wooden frame almost flying off its hinges when a splicer rammed his entire weight at it.

"Here! Give me a hand!" Elizabeth and Sally began pushing a nearby cupboard toward the yielding door, the task sluggish at first until Eleanor, with her ADAM enhanced strength, almost singlehandedly shoved the thick oaken furniture at the entrance. With the heavy obstacle braced firmly against the door, the splicers began to falter in their pursue.

"Goddamn door! Break already!" One of the splicer yelled, striking the door with something metallic.

"Too bright! Find another way in!" Another moan, before the group began racing down the alley to find a way inside.

"Thank God." Elizabeth heaved a sigh before slouching against the wall, reeling from the shock of seeing her nemesis of old, the memories she had fought so hard to suppress rushing back in crushing tidal waves.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" Eleanor spoke up. "Were those splicers working with Columbian?!"

"Looks like it," was all Elizabeth could manage, forcing herself with great effort to still her hammering heart.

"But how is that even possible? Both Rapture and Columbia are from two different realities, how are they working together? Are they all working for mother?" Eleanor turned to her with desperate expectation, hoping that she would have some insight.

"I'm sorry Eleanor…I-I don't know." Elizabeth shook her head as Eleanor came to sit beside her, shoulder sagging in surrender, seemingly on the edge of tears. She had never seen the woman so frail and vulnerable like this before.

"Who's there?" A voice demanded from the down the hall, followed by quick stomping of heavy boots.

The sight before her was grimy nostalgic, Elizabeth admitted reluctantly. Running down the corridor, clad in light blue uniform were two Founders soldiers, stone faced and fingers twitching on the triggers of their repeaters, barrels lined up at them.

"The lamb…" one of them hissed, eyeing Elizabeth coldly, "call the others, we found her and Sofia's girl."

Eleanor's hand was cackling with dancing blue electric current but the Founder trained his gun on her, cocking it with a menacing click.

"Don't you fucking try you little bitch," he growled before turning sharply to his companion. "The hell is taking so long Solomon?"

"Got it Meier, hold your horses."

In that moment of distraction, Elizabeth reached toward a fallen book and, in one fluid motion, threw it at the armed Founder, who spun around just in time for the heavy spine to slam squarely on his nose with a sickening crack. He staggered and fall, the repeater flew from his grasp. Before his partner could react Eleanor sprung at him, both hitting the floor in a mad scuffle, the radio flew across the room to shatter on a nearby wall.

Dashing toward the fallen Founders cupping his bleeding nose, Elizabeth quickly snatched a skyhook from his belt, coiling her fingers around the familiar grip and trigger. Lifting the contraption high above her head, Elizabeth inhale deeply and slammed it on the man's head. He went down with a contorted groan.

A loud fleshy smack blared to her left and she saw Eleanor rising and dusting her shirt. The other Founder lay sprawled on the ground, head turned at an awkward angle with a very red blemish flaring across his cheek.

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yeah." Eleanor nodded and began rummaging through the unconscious man many pockets. "Search them; there might be something we could use."

Elizabeth turned to do so but found Tenenbaum already on the task, checking every crevices on the bloodied Founder's coat and trouser with swift expertise.

"Take this Elizabeth," she handed her a Mauser pistol and, once seeing the apprehension on her face, continued. "Be practical, better to have it than not, yes?"

Eyes narrowing, Elizabeth snatched the damnable thing from Tenenbaum. She detested firearm but the geneticist was right, they needed every available advantage to survive. Tucking the gun behind her, Elizabeth saw that Tenenbaum was reliving the downed man of his other sidearm, a hand cannon.

"Mama?" Sally came to stand beside Tenenbaum just as she was checking the loaded chambers.

"Everything will be alright child, do not be afraid." She slid the gun into her belt and gave Sally a reassuring hug, the younger woman sinking into the embrace.

Even Elizabeth had to admit that the sight was touching.

"Attention good people of Mercy Fall."

The moment of sentimentality shattered with the booming announcement, loud and seemingly originating from the very walls around them. Tenenbaum head shot up in alarm while Eleanor paled in horror, shuddering hands raised to cover trembling lips. Turning to Elizabeth, she uttered a single fearful word:

"Mother."

"You must be wondering, rightfully so, of why such unspeakable strife had befallen your tranquil home on this most jubilant occasion," the British voice was silken smooth, an anathema in the tumultuous storm. During more temperate time the voice might even be soothing.

"Do not fret, for like all things there are reasons to every misgiving. Your plights are not one of random chances but of your own making, for you have welcomed two individuals into your flock and it is because of them that you now suffer. But rejoice for we of the Rapture Family and the congregation of Columbia are not beyond mercy or reason. We only ask for a simple gesture of compliance, a singular request to be fulfilled. Bring us Eleanor Lamb and Elizabeth DeWitt, the two progenitors of your woe, and we shall leave this place in peace."

Elizabeth reached over to the quivering Eleanor and pulled her close, steadying the poor woman assailed by overwhelming fright. Sofia Lamb was truly living up to her wicked reputation; Comstock finally finding a kindred spirit.

"As for Elizabeth and my dear Eleanor," the condescension was unhidden, the contempt clear. "Could both your fragile consciences live with the fact that you have condemned innocent lives to annihilation? However, there is still a chance to atone for such grievous sin. Come to the church of Lady Jolee on your own volition and end their suffering and yours. Heed this offer, or for every five minutes you linger in indecision, another soul shall pass. Choices define us all dear Eleanor, will you be Mercy Fall judgment? Or its martyr?"

Then with a crackling static buzz, the voice of Sofia Lamb faded away, leaving only the howling agony of a town ravaged by the insane and the depraved. Elizabeth and Eleanor didn't moved nor spoke, both unsure on how to proceed. One doesn't willing relinquished hard fought freedom and peace, but does personal gratification warrant the price of the innocent? Should they simply flee? But the better question was whether they can truly live with such a decision, just as Sofia had taunted them.

"Elizabeth? Eleanor?" It was Sally who broke the silence, her petit voice chiming clear like a bell, before repeating the quandary warring in their collective minds:

"What do we do?"


	9. The Lambs, the Wolves and the Sheepdogs

**Another chapter should be coming tomorrow, stay tune!**

* * *

"I just saw them about half an hour ago! They were at Youngblood's place, maybe they're still there!" Chad spluttered, nervous eyes darting to the pristine saber pointing at his neck, the tip gleaming an inch from his jugular.

"You fucking coward!" Chief Grillo protest was silenced by a swift backhand that send him crashing to the stone floor. The thug, a black man of broad frame clad in a cloak of red, was raising his feet to continue the assault when Father Khan threw himself in front the stricken officer, hand held out in abject pleading.

"Please! This is the house of the Lord! There is no need for any of this!"

"Go on son, you were saying?" The man, clad in a garment identical in design to those of the horrid Ku Klux Klan in the south, gesture for Chad to continue. The only difference here was that instead of the Klansmen white, he was draped in black.

"Those two also live in a cottage…yeah, a few miles away from town, deep in the wood," Chad nodded vigorously, none of his usual pompous swagger remains. "Look man, I told you everything I know so just let me go alright? Hell, my dad's loaded he will give you anything you want!"

"There is nothing here in Sodom that could tempt me from the path of righteousness," the hooded man raised his voice, saber moving dangerously close to the paling Chad. "You dare to lead me astray?!"

"No! I didn't…please don't kill me!" Chad whimpered and begged, shaking hands raised in total capitulation.

"Pathetic." The man sheathed his saber with a sneer and turned to the handful of Mercy Fall citizenry that had fled into the church, seeking sanctuary, only to find a slaughter pen awaiting them. Father Khan prayed, begging forgiveness for his failure to save these people and that they find peace in the Lord loving embrace when the end comes.

"Five minutes up," the hooded man announced to a pitiful reception, frightful wail answering in broken echoes. "The price of indecision."

The terrified crowd lowered their heads and huddled closer to their love ones as the man swept his cold gaze over them, like a butcher choosing the day's first cut.

"That one! That one! The one with the bright red hair! So shinny… I want it!" Another of the hooded man associate, a woman in tattered gown twisted in both body and mind, waved her pipe manically at the cowering Mari who shriveled deeper into her husband protective arms.

"Bring her here."

"No! Please!" Mari shrieked as the black man wrenched her from Thomas grasp, her husband forced to ground by two blue coated men who beat him into submission.

"Thomas! You bastard!" She kicked and fought her captor's grip before being thrown roughly at the hooded man feet.

"Kill the bitch." He uttered simply, waving over one of his underling clad in identical attire.

He walked up to the tearful Mari, her head cast down in mournful surrender, drew his revolver, cocked it and pressed the muzzle to her temple, the poor girl shook violently from the touch.

"No! Stop this!" Father Khan stepped forward, the Klansman sparing him a mingling of attention. "If blood is truly what you seek, then take mine and let her go, I beseech you, in the name of God, please!"

A resounding bang rang across the church before his plea was heeded. Father Khan winced from the sudden boom and turned with shattered hope toward the girl. Blinking, the sharp ringing receding, Father Khan was baffled to see Mari still upright, breathing heavily and very much alive, baleful eyes darting around in confusion.

The hooded executioner swayed then, arms flailing as his body sagged and folded, crumbling into a heap of twisted limbs, blood flowing from a smoking hole on his temple.

Turning toward where the gunshot emanated Father Khan saw a woman slipping from behind a pillar, down on one knee with an unusual looking rifle propped on her shoulder. Before the Klansmen and their companions even knew what was happening four more shot roared in rapid succession, four more bodies careened to the floor.

Screams erupted among the captives, diving flat to the ground as the invaders unleashed a furious salvo on the intruder. Father Khan rushed toward Mari and tackled the frightened girl to the ground, placing himself on top of her for protection, quiet sacrilegious in hindsight by he was sure God will understand.

Stealing a glance, he saw the woman flowing behind the stone column she had emerged, strangely calm despite the hails of bullets, returning fire into the ranks of Klansmen and their allies, slaying them in droves.

So preoccupied with the woman that the thugs failed to notice another figure, a man, sprinting straight for their unprotected flank, an oversized long barrel pistol pointed forward and…for the love of God he's a Nazi. The black long coat and high peaked cap embroiled with a stylized iron eagle brought back a rather unpleasant memory of Father Khan's childhood in Nazi occupied Norway, where the crisply dressed officers of the Third Reich prowled the street looking for dissidents. Stranger still was that he's Asian. Well, the Japanese did sided with the German, so it doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility.

He squeezed the trigger and there was a pop and fizz as if the air itself caught fire, and all around Father Khan bodies fell to the twinkling flares of soundless discharge. The big black man from before collapsed beside him, a sizzling crater where his right eye used to be, Mari scream almost made him deaf.

Roaring, the Klansman raised his hand at the Asian, but a lance of light peeled open his arm into a blooming bouquet of cooked flesh, flapping fleshy petals hanging from the stump just above the elbow. Falling to his knees, the Klansman agonizing howl ended when another bolt of reddish light punched through his skull, snapping his head backward as his broad frame tilted to the ground.

The deformed companion charged the Japanese Nazi, pipe raised for a savage blow, shrill cry announced her coming. The man was a blurred as he sidestepped the woman, spun on the ball of his heel and lashed out with a kick that struck the side of her neck with a very audible crack. The snarling woman was send bouncing across the floor, her neck twisted clean off the vertebrate.

The Gestapo unleashed more salvos above Father Khan, standing proud and tall, heedless of his own safety as the clamor of battle cracked into a panic rout.

"You're letting them go?" The Nazi asked, his question more than likely directed at the woman.

"Yep," she replied simply.

"They're gonna bring backup."

"I'm counting on it."

He laughed lowly at the promise of bloodshed before turning to Father Khan and extended his hand.

"Don't worry Father, we're friendlies."

Hesitantly, Father Khan took his hand and was hefted off the ground in one swift pull. Only now did he saw how young the boy was, a teenager for sure. He wore armor plates under his long coat and slung over his back was a large pack. Neither item seems to bother him.

"Thank you young man," Father Khan said, still a little frightened of the uniform.

"Chill out man, I'm not a Nazi," the boy saw through his trepidation. "Hey, we're not Nazi right?"

"Nope," his female companion strode over, sidestepping Thomas who rushed to Mari's side, sobbing as he held her. "We're something a lot worst."

Like him she carried a heavy pack over her shoulders and wore full body armor under her coat, a rather tight fitting and unabashed attire that could drive the holiest of Saints to unholy thought of carnality. Father Khan quickly made the sign of the cross.

"Now," the boy began, his powerful voice resonating across the hall. "I want every men and women who are not injured to start barring the entrance please."

The dazed people of Mercy Fall just gaped at him, most still shell-shocked while other appeared rather agitated at being ordered around by some Fascist looking stranger, stubbornly unreceptive of his request.

"Did I fucking spoke Thai or some shit!?" The boy raised his voice and swept his pistol over the frightened crowd. "Get off your asses and barred the goddamn door! Those Founders, Vox, and splicers motherfuckers are already coming back, so move!"

"You heard him! Move your arses colonial!" The woman, British judging by her accent, yelled the crowd into motion, herding them toward the door like a frothing mad sheepdog. "Pick up the seats and braced it against the door! Move it! You too you chav looking cunt! Move!"

"I'm sorry you have to see that Father," the boy shrugged and offered him an apologetic smile. "It's just that we really hate slackers."

"Please mister…" Father Khan pleaded. "We're just simple church going people, please let us go."

"We know Father, that's why I advise you to take the rest of these people down to the cellar. There's a tunnel that would take everyone to safety."

Father Khan stammered for words, not knowing whether to be caution or relief by this revelation. But despite the boy stern visage, he could tell that the grim youth was being truthful, no trace of lies or guile in his piercing eyes.

"You're helping us?" Father Khan needed to be sure.

"Of course," he nodded crisply.

"Oh thank the Lord!"

"Thank me and my friend padre, God didn't do shit," Father Khan froze when the boy suddenly took a step closer. "Before you go, however, there is something you need to do for us first."

"What is it?" He gulped, feeling himself shaking. Nothing was ever free.

"Me and my friend are looking for two girls," a shivering nostalgia assailed Father Khan, didn't the Klansman asked the exact same question just moments before?

"More precisely Father, where is Elizabeth DeWitt and Eleanor Lamb?" 

* * *

"We have to go to the church," Elizabeth declared, the decision coming after a deep and difficult introspection, befitting the subject of life and death.

"I agree," Eleanor backed her up. "It's what father would have done."

"No!" Sally raised her objection, cheeks flustered red and tears marred her soft blue eyes. "You can't! You just can't!"

"Sally…" Elizabeth reached out her hand only for Sally to swathe it away with an audible smack.

"No!" She screeched, trembling violently until Tenenbaum drew her into a motherly hug, calming the poor girl.

"They'll kill you," sobbing slurred her voice. "They'll kill both of you…just like last time."

Unable to bear those quivering, pleading gaze, Elizabeth turned away lest her resolves began to waver. The gentle touch of Eleanor's hand came to rest on her arm then. Without turning she reached over and gripped it tight, letting the warmth steadied her for the task to come.

So this was how one felt when walking to the gallows. The shivering pangs frosting over every veins and muscles, each steps taken more reluctant than the last, knowing full well the finality of it all.

"It's the right thing to do," Elizabeth repeated the phrase like a mantra.

"It's the right thing to do," Eleanor echoed.

"No, it is not."

Elizabeth and Eleanor both turn to see Tenenbaum approaching them, stern and crossed like a headmistress about to reprimand her students. Eleanor gave Tenenbaum a look that begged her not to make this any harder than it already was, but Elizabeth just glared at the geneticist. Of course she would object to taking the higher road, to so easily disregard the lives of others.

"Don't try and stop us Tenenbaum," Elizabeth stated coldly.

"But I will. I cannot allow you to proceed with this," Tenenbaum retorted.

Elizabeth gave a dry laughed. "What are you going to do? Shoot us?"

"If it is necessary, then I shall do what must be done."

"Stop it! Both of you!" Eleanor stepped in between them, hands held out in supplication to both Elizabeth and Tenenbaum. Neither woman, however, sued for peace.

"Every moment we wasted arguing is another life lost," Elizabeth eyes narrowed on Tenenbaum. "How many more needed to die before we stop denying the inevitable, huh? At least by giving ourselves up to Sofia, we can save those poor people from suffering in our stead."

"And you seriously think Sofia will honor her promises?" Tenenbaum scoffed mockingly. "You naïve child, I know Sofia Lamb. The first thing she would do after you both surrender will be to execute those you seek to help, for she has nothing to gain by letting them go free. She would hurt you, in both body and spirit, and watch as nothing but hollow beaten husk remains before finally giving you peace in death."

Elizabeth seethed but was reluctant to admit that the doctor's word rung with unshakable reason. There was no guarantee that Sofia would uphold her promise, power drunk men and women seldom honor there bargain.

"Please dear," Tenenbaum pleaded now. "I know that you will never trust me, but please believe me that I do not wish to see you or Eleanor get hurt. I beg of you to reconsider your choice."

"Elizabeth…" now it was Eleanor who spoke, her face scrunching unsurely. "I think we should listen to her."

Elizabeth supposed she should feel a little betrayed that Eleanor sided with Tenenbaum but quickly banished such thought. She was not that childish. And although she still held reservation for the doctor's recommendation she did trust Eleanor judgment regardless of bias or inclination, she has always been more levelheaded than her.

"Alright," Elizabeth relented. "We'll do it your way."

"It is good to see that you can still be reasoned with," Tenenbaum said and Elizabeth can't tell if she was being condescending or not.

"But we can't leave those people," now Elizabeth was putting her foot down. "We have to do something."

"That, I agree," Eleanor nodded in agreement. "We have to help them."

"Sofia will be expecting you to do just that," Tenenbaum warned.

"We know this town," Eleanor said confidently. "We can slip right under their noses before they could know any better."

"And we have our powers," Elizabeth added. "Even if it's a little dodgy, I think I can still open a Tear. Plus Eleanor can teleport, they'll never see us coming."

Tenenbaum looked about ready to retort but instead placed a palm over her face and sigh, shaking exasperatedly.

"The twins were right," she spoke after a moment. "You are not one to choose an easy path."

That, Elizabeth took as a complement, her triumphant smirk drawing a chuckle from Tenenbaum.

"I want to help too," all turned to Sally, the blonde girl fidgeted, fingers wringing a nervous pattern on her dress, but there was an undeniable steely gleam in her eyes.

"I think you should stay here Sally, hide and wait until we get back," Elizabeth offered the girl. She, Eleanor and maybe Tenenbaum can fend for themselves, having ample experiences when it came to navigating hazardous environment. Although Elizabeth admits that her track record wasn't as stellar as Eleanor and Tenenbaum, having died and all, but the point still stands.

"I am not some fragile doll! I can fight!" Sally fumed, giving the floor a good stomp before staring glumly downward. "I'm not just some dead weight..."

Elizabeth was about to speak when Eleanor walked over to the downed Founder she had tackled earlier and yanked a wooden baton from his belt, the lanyard snapping off in the process. The man groaned and stirred but a swift punch from Eleanor send him straight back into oblivion, now both his cheeks were a flaming blemish.

"Here," Eleanor handed Sally the cudgel, who gave it a few testing swings.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth gasped.

"What? If she wants to help I'm not going to stop her," she leaned closer and whispered into Elizabeth ears. "Besides, are you seriously going to leave her here? What happens when those two woke up or their friends get here?"

"Good point," Elizabeth nodded briskly, wondering how that glaring piece of logic escaped her in the first place.

"Just stay close dear," Tenenbaum knelt before Sally so that their eyes met. "Remember what I taught you? Strike only when you are sure, do not waste your energy."

"Yes mama Tenenbaum, I remember." Sally said resolutely, fingers coiling tight around the baton leather grip, a strange serenity coming over her visage.

Elizabeth and Eleanor traded looks of confusion, unsure if whether or not Tenenbaum just awakened something in Sally via a secret trigger word but quickly dismissed the thought, there were more pressing matter to attend to.

Readjusting her grip on the skyhook, Elizabeth crept toward the broken window beside a dark wood door, white sheer curtain rippled weakly to the soft breeze hissing through the shattered glass. Leaning on the door, Eleanor at her side, Elizabeth reached toward the almost translucent fabric and, with great care, parted it a fraction to see beyond.

Splicers patrolled the street, hunched and sniffing like hungry wolves, skittish under the sun bright glare. They roamed in packs, weapons waving and attacking everything that moves. Elizabeth gagged when they swarmed an injured man, turning him into unrecognizable piece of meat. Keeping a wide breadth of the splicers were squads of Founders, ragtag Atlas's guerrilla, brown coated Ryan's Security men and red clad Vox Populi freedom fighters. All four factions not opening fire on one another, showing herculean tolerant for their mortal foes as they kicked down doors or slithered into alleys, guns held at the ready.

Looking for them.

The sight was alarming to Elizabeth. Could Sofia Lamb been so persuasive as to broker a truce between these warring parties? Ideology forgotten for the sake of a common goal? Not even Comstock was so politically shrewd.

"The front door is out of question then," Eleanor remarked before running back toward the corridor they had come, Elizabeth following at her heels. Reaching the back door Eleanor, as quietly as she could managed, pushed aside the bracing counter before reaching for the brass doorknob, turning it slowly.

"Be careful," Elizabeth said as Eleanor gingerly poked her head outside, turning left, right and up before gently pushing the door open in its entirety, waving for Tenenbaum and Sally to join them.

"Come on!" Eleanor hissed as she dashed into the alleyway, hands simmering fire and frost with Elizabeth closely behind, skyhook spinning as she scanned the area, finding the place empty of threat. Sally warily came next, baton held stiffly in her grasp with Tenenbaum hovering at her back, hand cannon at the ready.

"If that was Thomas's shop…" Elizabeth pointed to the smoking ruin that was the ice cream parlor, tracing her finger in the air, trying to recognize the destroyed landmark while also recollecting where Mari and Thomas had went the last time she saw the couple.

"That means the church is that way," Elizabeth gestured toward the alley mouth, the large upturned trashcan trailing blood marked where the pursuing splicers were flattened earlier. "A straight line down Paeth Avenue, that would be the quickest way."

"There's going be splicers and Founders everywhere, if what we peeked was anything to go by," Eleanor then pointed toward an adjacent alley. "We can go through the alleyway, it'll take longer but we can remain out of sight and probably loose ourselves inside one of the buildings if they spot us. We can then swing around to the north and find a way into the church from there."

"That's just leaves us with crossing the road," Elizabeth observed the eerily empty thoroughfare, but knew better than to trust the serene appearance.

"Who says anything about crossing?" Eleanor smirked before reaching over and wrapping her arm around Sally's waist, pulling her close. "Hang on."

"Wha?" Before Sally could utter a word, both she and Eleanor disappeared into a cloud of pulsing iridescent violet, reappearing a split second later at the opposite alley in wisps of fading purple. Eleanor peered left and right at the alley mouth before hurriedly waving Elizabeth over. Behind her Sally staggered drunkenly for footing, not used to having her molecular structure displaced over a wide distance.

Raising her hands, Elizabeth concentrated and ripped apart the fabric of reality, fingers bend and arms straining as she tore open a gray laceration. The rippling image beyond the static threshold showed the back of Eleanor and Sally, both turning to face the fracture behind them.

"Go," she ushered Tenenbaum onward, who ducked under the shimmering arch before Elizabeth herself followed, swift gust rushing pass her as she collapsed the portal.

"Better get moving, I think I heard gunfire coming from the church." Eleanor jogged down the tight shaded corridor, debris and garbage littered their path and racks of clothe hung over their head, grimed with soot and smoke, tattered banners blowing in the wind.

Elizabeth quickened her steps to keep pace with Eleanor as she expertly navigates through the labyrinth like passage, slipping along the walls and vanishing around sharp bends like a shadowy apparition, quick and untouchable. So fluid was her motion that many time Elizabeth thought she was going to lose sight of Eleanor as she glided deeper into the gloom.

"Eleanor! Wait!" Sally spoke up, panting. "Slow down!"

Skidding to a stop, Elizabeth and Eleanor turned to see Sally and Tenenbaum struggling catch up, the doctor especially doesn't seem to be holding up well, the strenuous activity disagreeing considerably with her. The geneticist was sweating profusely, the bun of her brownish gray hair were beginning to unravel, breath coming sharp and haggard as she leaned heavily against a dirty wall. Sally didn't looked any better despite being younger, obviously not the type to go jogging in the morning.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked, feeling a tinge of worry for the aging scientist.

"I haven't ran like this since Rapture," Tenenbaum managed a weak smile as she wiped sheen of sweat from her forehead. "I am not the young woman I used to be."

"Do you need a rest?" Elizabeth asked, offering Tenenbaum a hand.

"Just a little stop should be enough…"

"Elizabeth!"

There was a loud bang and Eleanor tackled Elizabeth, both tumbling to the rough gravel ground. Glancing up, Elizabeth saw a smoldering crater on the wall where head was a mere second ago, and standing on top of the opposite building was a red clad Vox, a sniper rifle trained on her. Grunting a curse, the man was pulling back the bolt knob of his rifle when another shot rang out, his skull exploding in a mist of red before falling lifelessly down the three storey drop.

Elizabeth spun to see Tenenbaum whipping her smoking hand cannon down the corridor they had just came and emptied the remaining five shots at a group of charging Vox. Two went down, but the rest pressed on, firing their weapons down the cramp and empty alley. Roaring, Eleanor summoned a ball of fire, this one the size of a basketball, and threw it at the oncoming Vox. The tight cluster of men and women scattered, screaming as merciless flame consumed them.

"Come on! Let's go!" Elizabeth yelled and grabbed the stunned Sally by her wrist and dashed down the alley, quickly turning right at the first corner.

Only to run straight into another squad of heavily armed Vox, repeaters and rifles raised at the ready. Shrieking, Sally swung her baton wildly and, by sheer luck, managed to hit the nearest Vox in the face, the slim man dropped face first to ground, knocked out cold.

"Stay behind me," Elizabeth pulled Sally back and brandished her skyhook at the Vox, they seem amused by the display.

"Now little lady, just come quietly and nobody ain't gonna get hurt…much," a man with a very obvious southern drawl leered at them, taking wide gait to close their distance.

"We're not going any with you," Elizabeth backed away carefully, drawing the group closer into the static radius of an unopened Tear at their feet, none of them noticing the quantum anomaly they were treading upon.

"Now why do ya have to go and be difficult?" The man stalked closer, Elizabeth fighting to hide her grin. "Y'all gonna be sorry for that."

"No we won't, but you're about to be." Elizabeth waved her hand and the Vox found themselves knee deep in a puddle.

"What the hell?" the man looked down, confusion quickly morphing into panic realization.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth shouted and a crackling bolt of lightning shot passed her, striking the shallow pool in a dazzling dance of sparking blue currents. The Vox contorted and spams violently as thousands of volts shot through their body, setting alight every nerves and synapses. They collapsed in a twitching and spluttering heap when the Electro bolt ran its course, foamy saliva drooling from their mouth, eyes rolling into the back of their skulls.

"I might have went a little over board," Eleanor came to stand beside her, paling from the sight.

"Maybe just a bit much," Elizabeth shivered involuntary.

"We need to get out of the alley," Tenenbaum quickly reloaded her hand cannon, the settling quiet bringing them no comfort and the curdling, frothing scream was pretty hard to miss.

Turning away from the incapacitated Vox, Elizabeth reached for the nearest door and swung it open, waving everyone inside. The place was brightly lit to her surprise, the occupants having left in such a hurry that every bulb of light was still on. Locking the door, the four slowly made their way down the corridor. Judging by the rather homely interior and framed photographs lining the wall, Elizabeth deducted that they were inside someone's home, the undisturbed serenity almost putting her mind at ease.

She never saw the Vox woman charging through one of the open doors, ramming her shoulder into Tenenbaum side, the doctor grunting breathlessly. A shot rang out, the bullet went wide into the ceiling as the geneticist and the Vox fumbled into a backroom, both fighting to reach the gun that had slid to the far corner.

"Brigid!" Eleanor cry was cut short when a male Vox lunge at her, in his hand a big syringe with a cloudy liquid sloshing inside. Blindsided, Eleanor was laid flat on her back as the man scrambled on top of her, the sharp needle pointed downward, the metal tip suspended above her neck.

Gripping tight her skyhook, Elizabeth raised it above her head and was about to strike him when a sharp cry cut through the air. Snapping her head back, she saw that Sally was nowhere to be found, lost somewhere within the abode interior.

"Go!" Eleanor grunted, slowly pushing back her struggling, nervous assailant. Seeing how the fight was going in Eleanor's favor, Elizabeth spun on her heel and bolted down the corridor, skyhook spinning. Shouldering through a door, she found Sally standing meekly in the corner of a living room.

"Elizabeth look out!" Sally cried, pointing to a dark spot behind her.

Elizabeth tuned and raised her skyhook in time to block a rifle butt careening toward her temple, splinters flew as wood and metal locked in mortal combat, grinding and pushing to get the upper hand. Teeth gritted, Elizabeth tried to find purchase for her feet but was quickly overwhelmed by her attacker. She was shoved against a table and pressed flat on her back as the slender Vox quickly positioned himself between her thighs, a predicament that only causes Elizabeth to struggle harder, desperate kicks lashing the air.

Elizabeth quickly realized that it was a woman who had straddled her, and once she recognized that wrathful face before her, all warmth drained from her veins as she beheld a ghost of the past, made manifest to exact its vengeance.

"Da-Daisy?!" Elizabeth stammered and saw something akin to satisfaction glinting in those hate filled almond black eyes.

"Elizabeth." Daisy hissed and grabbed a fistful of Elizabeth blouse, hurling her across the room. White hot pain flared across her vision as she struck the hard plaster wall. Fighting through swarming pain, Elizabeth tried to rise but was pinned back against the wall by the hard sole of Daisy's boot.

"You remember this?" Daisy drew a pair of scissor from her belt, the same one Elizabeth had used to kill her back in Columbia, and leaned close, the sharpen iron gleaming with murderous glee.

"Don't! Daisy please, don't do this!" Elizabeth squirmed, clawing vainly at the heavy boot pressed firmly on her chest.

"You won't get any mercy from me, not after everything you've done." Daisy seethed and tucked the scissor back into her belt, "but we need you alive…for now."

Daisy pulled her foot away and Elizabeth crumbled to the floor, coughing for air. Looking up, she saw the Vox leader raising her leg for a stomp, but before the lead rimmed boot came down she was thrown staggering to the left with a resounding wooden bonk, one hand clutching the back of her head and the other reaching for anything to brace upon. Snarling, Daisy snapped toward the frightened Sally, baton shaking in her grip.

"You little bitch!" Daisy lashed out and wrenched the baton from the girl's grasp. Sally screamed and tried to run but Daisy caught a fistful of her hair, gave it a savage yank and forced the whimpering blonde on her knee, the cudgel arching back for a downward blow.

"No!" Elizabeth shouted and reached out toward a pulsing Tear, the object hazy and shrouded behind veil of fizzling static, and pulled it into the material realm.

Blinking from the white glare, Elizabeth gaze at the thing that she had summoned and found herself gawking in revulsion. Even Daisy had ceased her brutality and was staring at what the Tear had produced, while Sally took this opportunity to pry herself loose and backpedaled to the far corner of room.

It was…an egg? At least Elizabeth thought it was an egg, the oval shape leaving no other possible conclusion to what she was witnessing.

But Elizabeth saw that there was something wrong with it.

Instead of hard shell this egg, about the size a beach ball, was composed of quivering whitish fleshly skin, oozing translucent slime coated the surface in thick, sticky layer of goo, the sluggish liquid dripping slowly down the side.

Then without warning the top part peeled open in a grotesque parody of a blooming flower, the sickly wet sound sending shudders up and down Elizabeth body. Steam poured from the orifice, the gagging rot that made her tear up.

That was when she saw something rippled underneath the shell, too fast for Elizabeth to fully define.

Suddenly a blurry shape shot up from the egg with an inhuman shriek, hurtling toward the stunned Vox leader who barely had the time to raise her hand in defense.

Daisy's scream quickly turned into a gurgling choke as an arachnoid of some sort latched its whipping tail around her neck, forcing its writhing mass closer despite the woman colossal effort to push the damnable thing away, its eight needle like limbs prickling and pulling hungrily at her face.

"Get it off! Help!" Daisy croaked as the beast tighten its strangulation. The Vox woman from before, an oriental, burst through the door and rushed to assist her leader, ignoring the stricken Elizabeth and Sally as she took out a knife and tried to hold the creature still. Emerging in her wake was Tenenbaum, hairs and clothe roughed up but otherwise unharmed, and Eleanor who was also unscathed despite the scuffle.

Eyeing the two fumbling Vox locked in a deadly struggle with the arachnoid, Eleanor inches cautiously toward them and snatched a fallen undamaged radio from the floor, hooked it on her belt and turned to help Elizabeth up on her feet.

"Are you okay?" Eleanor asked as she guided Elizabeth to the front door.

"I'll live," Elizabeth cradled her chest, wincing from the touch.

"What was that thing?" Eleanor pushed the door open and they rushed outside, finding the street empty despite the church looming just a few blocks away.

"I really don't want to know," Elizabeth shook her head then turned to Sally and Tenenbaum. "Are you two alright? Can you go on?"

"That is the church, is it not?" Tenenbaum waved her gun at the gray spire grazing the smoky sky. "Nothing to do but pressed onward now that our goal is so close."

"I'm fine Elizabeth, a little shaken mind you, but fine," Sally managed a smile. "I lost my baton though…"

"Just stay close and low for now," Eleanor told her before striking further down the street, waving Elizabeth over, who in turn gestured for Tenenbaum and Sally to slink into the shadow. They both comply without a word.

"You hear that?" Eleanor said as Elizabeth came to her side.

"Yeah." She nodded, noting the loud ruckus down the road that churned like cresting wave rushing for the shores. Angry shouts answered by deafening eager roars, an army preparing for a massive push.

"What do you think is happening?" Eleanor asked.

"I don't know but I think we need to take a closer look," Elizabeth made to move but was held back by Eleanor who took her arm firmly.

"Was that Daisy Fitzroy?" Eleanor began, concern clear on her face.

"Yes." Elizabeth sighed.

"Didn't you…"

"I did."

"How is she…?"

"I don't know, alright?" Elizabeth snapped, but quickly softened after seeing Eleanor startled face. "Sorry."

"That's what I get for asking stupid question at a time like this," Eleanor chuckled dryly. "Do you need a moment?"

"I'll be alright," Elizabeth nodded. "As Tenenbaum said we're already so close, no point in stopping now."

"I guess you're right." Eleanor waved over Tenenbaum and Sally who quickly scooted up behind them.

"Let's see what we're up against."

With Elizabeth in the lead, the four women stalked down the street, heads held low and keeping to the shade of the building. The process was cautiously slow at first but when a loud explosion boomed from the church, all four hastened down the street, knowing that time was running out for those still trapped inside. 

* * *

Laura spared the plume of dust rising from the stairway a smidgen of attention before returning to a more pressing urgency now occupying her utmost scrutiny.

SCAR, flamer or hellpistol?

Decisions, decisions.

SCARs were nice for quick professional bout of firefight but it lacked the extravagance a first impression should provoke. Her signature flamer would totally fit such a task, but the thought of being trapped inside a burning church was a real turn off. The hellpistol appears to be the optimal answer but that would make everything too ridiculously easy.

Bloody hell, she can't decide. And that constant banging on the door wasn't exactly helping either, the thick wooden frame and stacks of seats bouncing to every violent beats.

What the hell was taking them so long? It's been what? Almost thirty minutes and those idiots still haven't breached the door. The old thing wasn't exactly the Gate of Minas Tirith so what was the fucking hold up? Goddamn these morons are incompetent; brain dead AI at its finest.

"About fucking time, goddamn," Tangmo strode into view, brushing dust off his commissar coat and unslinging his AA-12.

"They're gone?" Laura asked as he took his place by her side.

"Yeah, all safe inside the tunnel now, I caved in the entrance so no one can follow," Tangmo checked his ammo pouches. "Now I can have some fun with my baby."

"Why didn't you just use it to begin with?" A sharp splintering crack accompanied the spinning drill bursting through the door, lively cheer sounded outside. Laura and Tangmo paid it no mind.

"Don't want to accidently mowed down the civilians," now Tangmo was checking his Bolt pistol, detaching the sickle magazine, screened its content before slamming it back in.

"Since when do you care?" Laura gave him an incredulous look.

"They're not the enemy's civilian, are they?" Tangmo just shrugged as the door yielded further, moments away from succumbing to the onslaught.

"Wonder who's going to be popping in first," Laura propped the SCAR on her shoulder.

"If it's a Big Daddy then I got dips," Tangmo smirked wolfishly.

"So what the hell exactly is the plan here?"

"Draw them in, kill as many as we can, rigged the place, leave and send them all on a first class ride to hell."

"You want to blow this place up? Leave that to me love."

"…I'm already regretting this."

A loud whale like groan rumbled outside to a blaring ovation, quick thumping of heavy leaden boot reverberated as a Big Daddy rammed its hulking size through the feeble door and hastily erected defenses, sweeping its huge drill over the debris like a scythe wielding farmer reaping his crops.

It was one of those generic Big Daddy you saw on every Bioshock merchandise, what was it call? The squat, Quasimodo looking twat. Bouncer? Yeah, that's it, Bouncer. The iconic undersea steampunk cyborg thing ceased its assault on the scattered rubbles when it saw Laura and Tangmo; the illuminating porthole glowing furious red as another deafening roar erupted, the acoustic of the church amplifying the war cry.

"All yours," Laura waved at the monstrosity and Tangmo leveled his Bolt pistol.

The Big Daddy was bracing itself for the famous drill dash when Tangmo pulled the trigger, the rocket propelled .75 caliber standard Bolt round shot through the air in resounding thunder. The diamantine tip punched a fist size hole into the Big Daddy's head, it howled in pain just as the round detonated, spewing flame and shards out of its massive back.

The Bouncer stood still for a second before falling forward like a chopped tree and Tangmo went positively ballistic.

"Holy shit! One shot! Did you see that shit!" Tangmo was bouncing gleefully on his toe, pumped up by his kill. "The toughest motherfucker in Rapture dropped by a single Bolt! Hah! Suck it!"

A furious salvo interrupted Tangmo's DX crotch chopping, causing him to dive behind a seat, cursing loudly as hot, speeding lead peppered everything around him. Laura slinked behind a pillar, turned on the laser sight, switched the SCAR to full auto, took aim and waited. When the volley ended hordes of splicers poured into the church, firing their piss poor guns wildly and cackling like a bunch of deranged monkeys.

Pulling down the trigger, Laura fired indiscriminately into the splicers tightly packed ranks, bullets cutting them down en masse in sprays of blood and flailing bodies, the living tumbling over the dead. The surviving splicers tried to charge her as she reloaded, but was quickly torn to flapping shred by the ferocious salvo of the AA-12, the rapid discharge of 12 gauge shots turning their bodies into unrecognizable gibs.

The splicers continued their mad rush into the church, slipping on the slick puddle of crimson and tripping over the bodies of their fallen brothers and sisters like the Persian at Thermopylae and the Mongols at Hakata Bay, fighting their hardest to overcome the two defenders only to find themselves added to the ever rising pile of steaming corpses.

Soon the Founders and Vox entered the fray with some semblance of martial discipline, laying down covering fire while their braver fellows made a desperate sprint into the church interior.

Grinning at the challenge, Laura switched the firing mode to semi-auto and began picking off those slippery bastards scrambling for cover; every flash of the muzzle meant another body hit the floor, howling in agony or gurgling their last breath. They tried to return fire but found themselves pinned and steadily pushed back by Tangmo's AA-12 unceasing barrage, every steps gain meant five more steps backward.

Then the heavy hitter started showing up.

Leaping dramatically through the stain glass window was a Columbian Fireman, gush of fire snaking over his arms, pulsing with barely restrained longing to unleash the deadly inferno.

"In the name of the Prophet!" He screamed and hurled two fireballs at Tangmo, who dodged the projectiles with quick rolls and dashes, the flaming missiles never came close to grazing his venerated uniform. The commissar then rose to his feet, stood proud and valorous before the Bioshock ensemble, and pointed the Bolt Pistol at the enraged Fireman.

"For the Emperor!" Tangmo announced and fired, his powerful tenor eclipsing the weapon discharge.

The Fireman exploded in a brilliant conflagration, rolling fire swept over his comrade in an immolating tide. Men and woman screamed as searing flame draped over them, writhing in broken agony as they slowly, torturously, went still, clothe and skin flayed to black, pool of blood bubbled and steamed.

Laura could only shook her head at the pathetic display. She had expected so much more, but alas, her foes had proven their inadequacy. If this continues, they'll be running out of bullets first before Rapture and Columbia ran out of men to fight.

The great stone archway of the entrance exploded suddenly then, sending giant slab of stones shooting in all direction, trailing plumes of dust like rocket. Laura eased herself behind the pillar while Tangmo simply step calmly away from the flying debris, stubbornly refusing to leave his perimeter.

"The pain! Make it go away!" Came the mournful cry as a hulking shape burst through the dusty rubbles where the entrance once stood.

A Handyman.

Laura hated these gorilla dickheads, pretty much the worst enemies in the entirety of the Bioshock franchise. These jackasses were so infuriating because they were so goddamn hard to kill, and it's not like Bioshock Infinite allowed you to be creative like the Deus Ex games either. The only strategy you got was basically run and shoot the fucker till it die, while praying that Elizabeth wouldn't get stingy with ammos and health.

But now, Laura chance of revenge has arrived.

Whipping out her inquisitorial hellpistol, Laura took aim at the bald, sodden face man-thing.

"It hurts! Why won't the pain go away?!" He wailed and charged, large metallic hand reaching for her.

"Cry more ya wanker," Laura sneered and squeezed the trigger.

Dark red, super-heated lance of light shot out from the barrel, followed by pops and fizzes as the empty air in its trajectory ionized, the stank of burnt metal hung heavy in the air. The first shot went through the glass chamber containing the Handyman's heart, the vital organ and its connecting machinery atomized into dripping, charred residue.

Before the Handyman can come to term with his demise, another bolt vaporized the top of half his skull, leaving a smoking mandible with the tongue hanging loose. He fell to his knees and went still, propped up like a statue frozen in a posture of graceful death, the machinery giving its last hissing steam.

Sweet, sweet revenge. And it only took two shots.

With a maddened glint in her eyes, Laura trained the hellpistol on the stunned looking Founders and Vox, grinning wickedly as she held down the trigger and watched them all fall to the brilliant flashes of stabbing light, cooked to a crisp by laser beams hotter than the sun.

It was quite entertaining for the first few minutes, Laura admits. Plowing through the grunts of Bioshock with 40k weaponry was the equivalent of activating a God-mode cheat on low level enemies, the intoxicating rush of invincibility was truly an indulgence to be savored like the best and rarest of vintage.

But it got boring real quick. What was the point of power if challenge was sadly eliminated from the equation? Also, Laura needed to remind herself that they were not here to destroy Rapture and Columbia, not yet at least, but rather to rescue the two little lambs in distress. And for Laura to accomplish her task adequately, the Bioshock goons needed to be inside the church, not fleeing from it.

She saw it in their eyes. The Founders, the Vox, the Rapture guerrillas and even the splicers were seconds away from breaking into a full rout. Oh well, time to give them a little encouraging nudge.

"Fall back! Fall back!" Laura did her best to appear distressed, waving hurriedly at Tangmo who was still laying waste to everything coming out of the ruined archway. "They're breaking through, I can't hold them back and my guns are busted! Fall back!"

Dashing from the pillar, Laura made a show of slipping and fumbling as she scrambled for a long seat further back into the church, giving a few sharp squeaks when bullets whizzed close to her. The premature roar of victory signaled a second wind for the Bioshock horde as they sally forth into the church, spreading out to either side for an all-encompassing flanking maneuver.

Peeking her head above the upturned seat, Laura saw Tangmo rising to his feet and casually strolled over to where she was, sparks cascaded off his Storm Trooper armor where lucky shot landed. He glanced back a few times to fire his Bolt pistol at the enclosing wave of humanity, but hungry wasn't to be denied.

"What do you have in mind?" Tangmo, dual wielding the AA-12 and Bolt pistol, asked as he began dishing out sporadic return fire. "Might want to be quick, it's beginning to look a lot like the last ten minutes of Left 4 Dead up in here."

"It'll be a minute love," Laura began whistling 'Whistle While You Work' as she reached into her pack, rummaged through the overflowing content before withdrawing two promethium fuel tanks, four Melta charges and a roll of tape. Setting all four Melta detonation to sixty second…nah, make it forty, Laura taped the bombs to the two promethium tanks and bundled them up nice and snuggly. She then placed the makeshift explosive down between her and Tangmo, pressed the big red button to start the countdown sequence and watched the seconds blinked away.

"Rubber dinghy rabid bro!" Laura screamed and bolted for a stain glass window depicting Mary and baby Jesus.

"The fuck…oh shit!" Tangmo leapt to his feet and dashed after Laura, ignoring the bullets making twinkling music off his armor.

Eyes closed and arms raised in a cross over her face, Laura jump through the window in a magnificent display of sacrilegious destruction, landing on the soft swaying grass outside with a beautifully executed ninja-roll, Tangmo landing beside her a few seconds later.

"Run!" She yelled as they both took off at a brisk sprint, passing the church courtyard where an army of Bioshock enemies were gathered. They gawked at the two black clad youth for a moment, taking a few seconds to register the threat before chasing after them, weapons brandished and hungry.

"Please tell me you actually timed it sixty seconds this time," Tangmo said beside Laura, trying to keep up with her enhanced speed courtesy of the power armor.

"Forty!" Laura smirked innocently.

"You crazy bitch! We're gonna get fucked now!" Tangmo shouted as a metal slug struck his right pauldron.

"Fuck you!" He retorted promptly.

"No we won't! There!" Laura rushed toward a large truck laying on its side like a stricken whale and sat with her back braced against its upturned underside, hands over ears and face tucked between her knees, the metallic carcass would suffice for this imminent blast. Tangmo appeared a second later next to her and assumed the same position, teeth gritted in morbid anticipation.

"Freeze!" A group of Founders ran up to them, weapon raised and smiling triumphantly.

"Bro! You seriously need to get down!" Tangmo told the man. "I'm not joking dude!"

"Ha! Like I'm going to fall for that…"

The man never finished his sentence for he was threw off his feet by a rapturous explosion, so loud and powerful that it appeared the very fabric of reality was being ripped asunder. Laura blew the man a kiss just as his gaping, screaming face was washed over by glaring, infernal white. Then came the heat, crashing over them like a hellish tsunami. 

* * *

Never in her life had Elizabeth thought it would be possible to experience such unimaginable heat. The fiery eruption had left her deaf and blind, so furious was the monstrous conflagration that every fiber of her being were crying in agony, every bones, joints, ligaments and muscles convulsing in painful spasms, unable to do anything but writhe and squirm. She could feel herself screaming but no voice came, nothing but sharp ringing filled her ears as the muted shriek scraped her throat raw.

It was sight that first returned to her, the white painful glare receding to reveal a world awash in flame, bright ripples of red and orange draped over every surface, dancing as if ablaze. Then she saw the fire, rising in thick column of burning cloud where the church had stood, the destruction absolute and merciless. Even from a couple of blocks away, the explosion was of such magnitude that the shockwave had knocked Elizabeth off her feet and flung her like a doll down the street.

Glancing around, she saw Eleanor lying face down on the ground, moving with lethargic feebleness to rise. Rushing to her friend, Elizabeth yelled and found that sound was quickly returning.

"Eleanor!" Her voice was alien and muffled at first, but quickly took its normal timbre, followed by the agonizing ambient of the smoke filled air.

"Eleanor! Oh my God!" Elizabeth quickly rolled Eleanor on to her back and very carefully lifted her off the ground. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

Eleanor coughed and swayed but quickly righted herself, blinking the world back into focus.

"The church…" she whimpered, her forlorn gaze fixed on the twisted tongues of fire rising skyward.

"No…" Eleanor shuddered, head slumped low. "No, no, no!"

Elizabeth wrapped Eleanor up in her arms and held her tight, fighting back tears of her own. Those people…gone, innocent taken from this world in wretched torment. Mari, Thomas, Andreas, Casey, Father Khan, great wonderful people with nothing by joy and kindness in their hearts, all dead now because of her stubbornness to comply with a mad woman's demand. Just when she thought the evil of Rapture and Columbia couldn't reach a new threshold of depravity, they managed to show her that their humanity was no longer salvageable, leaving only the deformed monster within reflected upon their cancerous flesh.

"Eleanor! Elizabeth!" It was Tenenbaum, staggering toward them with a limping Sally draped her over shoulder.

Wordlessly, Elizabeth and Eleanor slowly got back on their feet, still wrapped in each other's arms, and walk over to Tenenbaum and Sally. They all shared the same broken look, lost on what to do now that they had failed to help those within the church.

"Are you two okay?" Was all Elizabeth could managed, still reeling from the shock.

"My ankle…" Sally said weakly, hopping on one foot and winching as she applied weight on the other.

"I think she might have sprained it," Tenenbaum spoke. "What do we do now Elizabeth?"

"Stop pursuing the path of futility, maybe?"

They all jumped with a squeal when Rosalind reappeared among them, her pristine appearance was a stark contrast to the four bruised and battered women, looking as detached as ever despite the apocalyptic vista.

"Those people…" Elizabeth stammered. "I couldn't save them. They are all gone because I didn't gave myself up."

"There was no possible outcome that would see Sofia Lamb honoring her promise," Rosalind said snappily. "You have wasted your time and endangered yourself following a fatalist impulse to assist those irrelevant to your survival. A sad waste of energy if you ask me."

"They were our friends!" Eleanor screamed and clawed at Rosalind, held at bay by Elizabeth who was really tempted to let her loose on the female Lutece. "And now they're dead! Don't you understand you frigid bitch! They're all dead because of us! Kind and good people that deserved a long and happy life," Eleanor was weeping openly now, "they don't deserved any of this."

"And they didn't, they are safe," Rosalind announced unperturbed.

"What?" Eleanor sniffed, wiping sliver streaks from her dirty face.

"You mean they're alive?" Elizabeth ventured, not daring to hope.

"It was an unforeseeable serendipity," Rosalind continued. "It appeared that the chaperones we've enlisted just so happens to stumble into the church when the attack occurred. They freed those inside from captivity, and led them to safety via a secret tunnel they've used to gain entry into Mercy Fall. They should be somewhere in the forest by now."

Elizabeth let out a whimpering gasp, tears of relief streamed down her cheeks to wash away the filth and grime.

"Although, I must say that I fail to understand why they feel it prudent to destroy the church," there was an undeniable annoyance in Rosalind tone, something Elizabeth found rather surprising. "My brother is reprimanding them as we speak."

Neither Elizabeth or Eleanor spoke, they just stood there clinging to each other, sharing the rushing relief washing over them, the soothing news drying their tears and easing the oppressive weariness shrouding over their tired body.

"Perhaps now you will be more inclined with the prospect of leaving this town?" Rosalind inquired. "If you wish, I will be more than willing to guide you to your escorts."

"That would be very nice," Eleanor broke away from Elizabeth. "Thank you."

"Then it shall be done," Rosalind said crisply. "It was getting rather tiresome seeing you all scuttling off on your own."

"And I'm…sorry for calling you a frigid bitch," Eleanor added meekly, shrinking slightly from Rosalind unblinking stare.

"Apology accepted," Rosalind said after a moment and Eleanor sagged in relief. "But first, all of you may wish to get off the road."

As quick and abrupt as her entry, Rosalind was gone. The air tremble and Elizabeth turned to see four gunships hovering above them, guns wielding men and women cocking ready their firearms. From down the lane came splicers, howling and yapping, crude weapons waving above their heads in bestial frenzy as they spotted the four women.

"Run!" Elizabeth yelled and their flight across the ruin of Mercy Fall continues.


	10. Finally They Meet

**To dragonsoul1: Of what you requested, krosis, take solace in patience and the fruits it will yield.**

* * *

"Was that truly necessary?"

Tangmo turned to regard Robert blankly, his laspistol trained on a kneeling Founder, hands held up in surrender.

"You mean this or this?" Tangmo asked in earnest, waving the sidearm between the smoking remains of the church and the frightened Founder, a blond haired boy barely an adult.

"I find your actions to be extreme disagreeable," Robert pressed on. "Such unrestrained destruction serves no purpose beyond that of inflicting single-minded violence upon others who, for no better reason beside the fact that they happened to be in your crosshair, you committed heinous atrocities upon."

"…That's kind of the point," Tangmo looked at Robert like he was an idiot. "It's call war."

"If this is indeed a war, as you say, then you will let the boy go," Robert gestured to the frightened Founder. "As stated by the Geneva Convention he can no longer be regarded as a combatant. He is injured and unarmed and no longer poses a threat to you or your colleague."

"He right! I am disarmed!" The Founder nodded briskly. "You have to let me go!"

Six consecutive flares spewed from the barrel and the young Founder slumped back, nothing but charred gore remained above his neck, blackened by the lasbolt.

"And as was decreed by the Imperial Creed," Tangmo holstered his laspistol. "My foe shall ceased to be human in my eyes. Something less than beast. Something worthy only of destruction."

Robert just glared at him. "This is sickening."

"What you see as an atrocity, I call it efficiency," Tangmo continued coldly. "I have fought for kings, emperors and gods over countless battlefields across the endless expanse of the cosmos. And in that long service I have learnt never to dispense clemency where it will not be reciprocated. Every Founders, Vox and splicers we let loose will come back to hound us, and they won't be alone. In war, mercy is a vanity that breeds compassion and empathy, swords more deadly than those wielded by your foe, for it is a weapon one willingly surrendered to the enemy, a consignation to self-annihilation."

Tangmo smirked, seeing how he just managed to silence Robert. And was that fear creeping up his pale face?

"Beside," Tangmo adjusted his awesome commissar cap. "Where were you for the rest of these assholes?"

He waved across the street littered with twisted, unmoving bodies of the unlucky Founders that had cornered them five seconds before the church went up in flame. The blast had thrown them to the ground, screaming as the searing gust boiled their flesh. When the promethium fueled heat finally subsided Tangmo and Laura had rose from their cover, the truck thankfully absorbed the worst of the blast, and began the methodical process of executing those that survived.

What did Robert think they were going to do? Let them all go? Does this look like the freaking Disney Channel?

Laura was approaching them now, hellpistol still smoking, casting an annoyed glance at the less than happy Robert.

"What's he doing here?" Laura swung her pack to the ground and reached inside, groping through the sea of weaponry.

"He just showed up and went all Ban Ki-moon on my ass," Tangmo pointed accusingly.

"What are you going to do? Send us an angry letter saying you're very angry and then proceed to do nothing?" Laura snorted. "Blast it all, where is it?"

"All moral conundrum aside, why are you here again?" Tangmo inquired.

"My sister had send me to take the both of you to Elizabeth and Eleanor," Robert said snappily. "And also to reprimand you for your gross affinity toward unnecessary cruelty."

"Then I guess you can go back and tell Rosalind that we have decided to ignore both of her directives," Tangmo watched as gunships flew in tight formation across the sky, knowing that they'll be converging here soon.

"I beg your pardon?" Robert shot back. "Is it not your mission to escort Elizabeth and Eleanor to safety?"

"It is." Tangmo stated simply.

"And you have chosen to do this by not protecting them?"

"We're deep in hostile territory with no back up or support," Laura didn't look up as she spoke. "Even if we hooked up with those two, we'll still have the entirety of Rapture and Columbia to deal with. Your sister was right when she said that the math doesn't add up, the two of us can't hold back a tide that big."

"So what should I tell Rosalind?" Robert asked.

"As heretical as this sound, tell her we're going to be sowing chaos all across this town, throwing their forces into disarray and killing as many as we can. That should send them into a mild panic and alleviate some attention off the two little lambs." Laura grinned suddenly, finding what she was looking for. "Aha! Come here my pretty!"

In one elegant swoosh she pulled the serpentine Agonizer from her pack, uncoiling it in sharps pirouetting cracks.

"Oh my," Robert gasped as he beheld the Dark Eldar barbed whip, wielded with graceful mastery by Laura.

"Hypocrite," Tangmo sneered at the sight.

For all their pious and holier-than-thou attitude, the inquisition would be the first to readily use heretical tools of xenos and traitors. Unlike the proud and pure commissariat who shun such unclean behavior.

"Oh, fuck off." Laura gave the Agonizer a good crack, the whip moving as if an extension of her arm.

"Anyway, here," Tangmo flicked a round, coin size pendant to Robert.

"What is this?" Robert looked at the intricately carved image of a silver bridge with a ruby fire burning underneath. The sigil of the Bridgeburners.

"It's a homing device, keep it close so we can track you down later," Tangmo watched as the gunships began its descend toward them, grip tightening on his AA-12 and Bolt pistol, both reloaded with high explosive rounds and Bloodshards Bolts respectively. "Keep them safe Robert, we'll see you soon."

"God speed then." And with that the male Lutece made his trademark exit.

Tangmo and Laura then turned toward the looming gunships; the mounted turrets winding up for the first volley. Down the street, more Bioshock grunt rushes to surround them.

"Ready?" Laura twirled the Agonizer in one hand and aimed her hellpistol in the other.

"Oh yeah," Tangmo rolled his shoulders. "And they shall know fear."

* * *

"If you would come this way please," the prim voice of Rosalind Lutece startled Eleanor from her haggard stupor, breathless and spent after a mad dash through streets and corridors with the hounds of Rapture and Columbia nipping at their heels. They have managed to lose their pursuers in the smog and rubbles for now, but such interlude, Eleanor knew, would be brief.

"Come along now," Rosalind was standing beside an alley like a bellhop, waving them over calmly.

Shambling, the four women drifted ghostlike across the crater strewed road, tired and barely aware of their surroundings as they sauntered into an empty alleyway, a straightforward one with only two points of entry, the one in front and the one behind. Staggering midway into the musty corridor, the four women stopped to take a breather, Brigid falling to her knees with Sally trying to hold her up right, while Eleanor and Elizabeth just leaned on the flanking wall and let gravity pull them down.

"Hang in there mama," Sally panted and Brigid gave a wearily smile in return, her breath long and harsh.

"I'll be alright child," Brigid croaked, putting up a brave face for Sally.

"Good to have you back brother," Rosalind turned to regard Robert who had appeared at her side, but her gaze quickly took a dissatisfy tinge as she glanced across the empty alleyway as if expecting someone.

"Where are they?" Rosalind asked sharply.

An explosion answered her query, far and muffled but strong enough to feel the tremor beneath their feet. Above them, gunships shot across the sky and beyond the alley mouths armed men and women were rushing toward the calamity.

"Over there." Robert inclined his head.

"Have you not told them of what I've said, brother?" There was an accusing tone in Rosalind voice.

"Of course I did sister," Robert scowled ever so slightly.

"Then why are they not here?"

"They believe they can ease some pressure off Elizabeth and Eleanor by making themselves targets for Rapture and Columbia."

"Suicidal, the both of them. What about my displeasure for their uncouth method?"

"They have been told."

"And?"

"They ravel in such action and have chosen to brush aside your discontent for their malpractice."

Rosalind inhaled sharply, peeved and unaccustomed to being blatant disregarded so. She shot Eleanor a glare when she began snickering, eyes narrowing to a piercing slit.

"Will they be joining us then?" Rosalind continued temperately, forcing down her frustration.

"They said soon," Robert nodded.

"Good, I shall have choice words ready for them."

Robert then glanced at the four women, Eleanor flinching at how detached those eyes were, void of discernable empathy.

"They seem to be in dire need of a respite dear sister," Robert observed quite redundantly.

"Indeed brother, they all seem thoroughly exasperated," Rosalind gave her input.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and Elizabeth shoulders sagged as she shook her head, both really not in the mood for the Luteces insistent banters.

"Can you help us please?" Sally pleaded, holding tight the ailing Brigid who swayed weakly to the slightest of movement. "Mama need to rest, she can't go on like this."

"Very well," Rosalind took off toward the far end of the alley. "There is a place that will serve your most pressing need."

Rising, Eleanor and Elizabeth followed the female Lutece, leaving Sally and Brigid with her male counterpart.

"Over there," Rosalind waved over to an Italian restaurant across the street, minutely scathed compared to its neighbor. It was Olivia place, nice place and nice food, Elizabeth and Eleanor usually drop by every once in a while. Now it was nothing but another casualty taken by Rapture and Columbia.

"You might want to hurry," Rosalind continued as another bout of gunfight blazed in the distant. "I doubt the absent of your adversary would last for long."

"Bring Tenenbaum over," Elizabeth held out her hand. "I'll open a Tear inside."

Eleanor nodded and rushed back to Brigid, hefting her wilting frame up with Sally's help, the geneticist grunting weakly between their shoulders.

"Hurry," Elizabeth said as Eleanor and Sally carried Brigid into the Tear, finding themselves inside the restaurant that was blessedly dust free. Together, they eased the doctor down on to a long leather seat by the wall, Brigid wincing from the strains and sores.

"How is she?" Elizabeth joined them.

"Exhausted," Brigid stated between long drawn gasps, fighting to stay up right.

"As to be expected after such strenuous activity," Robert appeared by the table, held upright in his palm was a tray with four beer mugs filled to the brim with clear, sloshing water.

"I believe these should help nicely," he placed it down and the four women quickly took the mug and drank hungrily, water streaming down their lips.

"Here, you're all making a mess of yourself," now it was Rosalind handing them napkins like a dutiful waitress.

"Thank you," Eleanor wiped her face briskly, grimacing at the amount of grime the cloth accumulated after just a few swipes, flecks of soot and dust peeling off like scabs on a wound.

"Are you feeling better mama?" Sally asked Brigid, gleaming doe eyes quivering with worry.

"I am feeling a lot better now dear," she smiled and patted Sally on the head lovingly, indeed looking a lot better than she was a moment before. "Now stop staring dear, it is quite impolite."

"Sorry," Sally blushed.

"How's your ankle Sally?" Elizabeth asked from across the table, placing down the empty mug.

"It still hurts, but I'll be fine." Sally gave a shaky smile. Eleanor could see that she was soldiering through the pain rather impressively, but her injury could worsened once they're on the move again.

"So what do we do now?" Eleanor asked the Lutece.

"I believe a brief recuperation is warranted, don't you agree sister?" Robert turned to Rosalind.

"Indeed," Rosalind nodded curtly. "We also need to wait for the two custodians to arrive before continuing your flight. Perhaps this would a good time for you to attempt to corral them toward our current whereabouts."

"Unnecessary, they will be coming to us." Robert tapped the silver pin on his lapel as thunder rumbled in the distance, sending wisps of dust on their heads.

"If they ever decide to show up," Rosalind said sternly.

"They seem to be having quite a jolly time, aren't they?" Robert observed.

Eleanor then remembered the radio she took from Fitzroy and unclasped it from her belt, placed it on the table and began flicking the switches and turning the dials. After a moment the contraption whined to life, screeching jagged static and distorted high pitched note.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth peered over her shoulder.

"We can listen in on them," Eleanor slowly rotates the transmission knob. "We only need to find the right frequency, give me a second."

Minutes passed before Eleanor persistent tuning yielded result, faint conversation began parting through the sea of crackling noises. Carefully, she turned the dial until the static dispersed and was replaced by a clear, and very angry, voice.

"…I want you to find that DeWitt bitch and her friends, I'm going to repay everything she did to me tenfold," came the seething hiss of Daisy Fitzroy, Elizabeth flinching at the hateful words. "Did you hear me Magnus? Find them now! That's an order!"

"We got other problems right now Fitzroy," came Magnus gruff reply, sounding rather despondent. "Ours boys and those Rapture freaks are getting butchered left and right, someone is out there picking them off and they're doing a pretty damn good job. Did you noticed the church woman? Or were you too busy trying to catch your little lamb?"

"Don't you dare take that tone with me boy! Remember who put me in charge of both the Vox and you Founders," Daisy shot back hotly.

"Yeah I remember," Magnus scoffed sardonically. "My point still stand, we need to find who's taking pot shots at our men."

"Do I have to do everything myself around here? Fine! I'll send some men over, just light the flare so they'll know where you are."

"Much of obliged," there was a crackling noise as Magnus and Daisy disconnected, silence returning as the four women and the Lutece stared intently at the radio, waiting for the chatter to return.

Eleanor was about to speak when Daisy voice flickered back to life.

"Come in alpha squad, come in. Be on the lookout for possible hostiles in your area, find out who they are and apprehend them. If not, you know what to do. Do you copy alpha squad?"

Monotone static answered Daisy.

"Alpha squad do you read me? Come in, over."

More ghostly static.

"What the hell?" Daisy groan was punctured by the ticking of dial as she scanned the frequency.

"Beta squad, status report, do you read over? Gamma? Zeta? Iota? Goddamn it, what in the hell is going on? Anybody picking this up, give me a status report immediately, this is an order!"

"Hello? Fitzroy is that you? Thank God we got a hold of you," an excitable man blared loudly. "14th Squad of the Founders finest mam."

"What's happening over there? Why can't I reach anybody around the north and center of town?"

"It's very bad here mam, a lot of our people along with those undersea folks were gunned down like dogs. I've never seen anything so gruesome…"

"Calm down boy," Daisy cut in testily, not too interested in the details. "Did you see who it was that did it?"

"I sure did mam!" Came the perky, eager to please, reply. "And it was darndest thing, I tell you what, caught a glimpse of them when they were finishing off some of them Rapture security people. Tried to go after them but boy, can they fight."

"Get to the point!"

"It was a white woman and an oriental man, mam. They have weapons the like I've never seen before, way more powerful than what we got. And I swore the lady was carrying some kind of bladed whip."

"A whip?"

"God honest truth mam."

"What did they look like?"

"They wore black mam, pretty hard to miss. Very military looking. With the long coat and the cap and the…"

"Military?! They look like fucking Nazi!" A new voice bellowed, sounding exasperatedly offended.

"I did warned them about that," now it was Rosalind giving her input.

"What in the hell is a Nazi?" Having come from a time that preluded the Great War, Daisy hasn't a clue as to what the man was insinuating.

"I got put in one of their camps back in the war, the things I've seen…they're evil made manifest. And now two of them are here…I'm going to find them and kill'em all!" There was a slight demented crack in the man's voice and Eleanor could only give the twins a look of absolute appalls. Did they just send a pair of murderous Nazi to come and get them?

"Calm yourself," Daisy ordered. "Take the rest of your squad and joined up with the others."

"My squad?" The man shrilled laughter confirmed that he had slipped from the precipice of sanity, "they're dead! All of them, just like the boys back in the war…I'll find them, I'll find them, I'll…"

A sharp crack of a whip ended his rambling as static returned.

"Hello? Jesus Christ, Founder boy you still there?" Daisy scrambled through the frequency.

"We found them mam! Got them running for the hills we did!" The boy announced excitedly, spirited whooping can be heard from the background. "We're chasing them into the alley now! They're gonna get boxed in there!"

"Damn it boy! Wait for reinforcement!" Daisy command was promptly ignored by the energetic youth, so energized that he'd forgotten to break off the transmission. What followed were a couple of minutes of constant yelling, breathless gasps and quick pattering of feet as the Founder troops charged after the two assailants. A surprised gasp went up, followed by the quick clicking of priming weapons.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait! Don't shoot!" the Founder youth shouted. "It's the Vox! Stand down damn it!"

"What the? Where did those two went off to?" The Vox replied with clear bafflement.

"What are you saying? We were the one that chased those two buffoons here."

"Chase? We were tracking them through the alley when we bump into you lots."

More hurried stomping and demented chattering soon joined them.

"Where is it?! Where's the shadows?! Where did it go?!" The splicers hissed jaggedly.

"Get out of there! It's a tra…!"

"Elendil! Si ath thûr!"

A powerful battle cry cut short Daisy warning as a shrill metallic rasping tore into the arguing Vox and Founders. Wet fleshy tear answered the sharp whipping crack, heralding an eruption of agonizing choir that filled the radio with a torturous requiem. Eleanor flinched and held the device away in revulsion, Elizabeth clamped her hands over her mouth in shock while Sally scooted fearfully into Brigid embrace, all of them paled as the contorted shriek continue to rise in concerto.

"Shoot the bitch! Shoot her!" The Founder youth shouted desperately when booming gunfire engulfed him, roaring in hellish delight to the thuds and rips of scything bullets. More cries and screams blared when scrambled static distorted the horrific transmission, the radio more than likely flew from the Founder stricken body. Unfortunately, the unfolding carnage didn't cease its broadcast, the damaged radio resuming the slaughter unabated.

"Into the fires of battle, unto the anvils of war!" A powerful tenor broke through the cacophonic din. "Let see what passes for fury amongst your misbegotten kind!"

"They sound quite terribly close, aren't they sister?" Robert gave his observation, to which Eleanor lifted her head and listened. Sure enough the distant muffled staccatos could be discerned, howling in synch with the radio. The fighting was close, but Eleanor couldn't pinpoint the direction it was coming from.

Then as sudden as it had began the violent skirmish ended, leaving only the shallow groan of the dying, the whip giving a final crack before silencing.

"One more!" The man shouted as a splicer roared.

"Ata!" Came a loud feminine respond that accompanied the smack of a connecting fist, followed by a wet pop and a short showering drizzle.

"What the fuck?!" The woman yelled after a pause.

"Holy shit dude, you just one punch that motherfucker into a freaking modern art piece," the man was laughing as he spoke.

"Bloody hell."

"Literally…why is the radio blinking red light?"

The clicking of stilettos grew louder as she approached the fallen device.

"Not anymore," the woman crooned before the transmission ended in a crunch.

"Goddamn it, Monroe, you there?" Daisy took center stage again, speaking with abrupt haste.

"I'm enroute now Daisy, we're right on top of them," Monroe shouted over battering gust. "I see them! All guns concentrate fire on those two now!"

A loud bang sundered the Founder before their barrage could commence, the groan and hiss of ruptured machinery and failing engines now filled the radio, frantic shouts of the crews cleaved through the screaming wind.

"We're hit! We're hit!" Monroe bellowed through screeching cacophony. "Shit! Brace!"

The radio may have went silence but Eleanor could hear and felt as the Columbia flying machine careened to the ground. The impact shook the restaurant interior violently, anything that wasn't nailed down spasm violently, some plates, glasses and hanging portrait clattering to the floor.

"Jesus Christ…" Daisy uttered fearfully as she switched frequency. "Sofia, we got a problem."

"I know," was Dr. Lamb reply before she broke off the transmission.

"Attention Rapture Family and faithful of Columbia," like before, her mother's voice echoed across the city, the deep soothing reverberation washing over them like caressing waves. "Two wolves are now among our flocks, wreaking merciless havoc upon our congregation and interfering with our most righteous mission. They are to be treated with extreme hostility and shown no mercy for the atrocity they had committed against Rapture and Columbia. Go now my children, be the shepherds to your flock and vanquish these interlopers."

The announcement faded and Eleanor finally switched off the radio, reclining back into the soft leather, shivering at those deceptively caring words that brought nothing but memories of lies and experimentation inflicted upon her. Shaking, Eleanor wrapped her arms tight about herself, but the unnatural chill refused to leave.

"She can't hurt you," Eleanor cringed when the warmth of Elizabeth palm came to rest on her shoulder, the cold fading.

"I like to think so," Eleanor flashed Elizabeth a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Mere hours after arriving and you two have managed to make an enemy out of Rapture and Columbia," Rosalind spoke suddenly, turning to her left. "I will admit that I am rather…impressed by your ingenuity."

"What can I say?" Eleanor leapt from her seat at hearing the new, deep voice that answered Rosalind, her palm flaring with the Incinerate plasmid. Beside her, Elizabeth drew her Mauser and aimed at the figure appearing from the back door.

The Asian man was indeed attired like a Nazi, long black coat and high peeked cap, a smoking oversized gun in each hands which he wielding with weightless expertise. He was drenched head to toe in blood, his handsome face sheened in crimson, fresh droplets dripping from his powerful limbs.

"We're professional," he gave a satisfied grin and placed his guns down on a nearby table before letting the huge pack on his back slid to the ground. After a few rolls of the shoulders, he reached for a nearby napkin and wiped his face, sighing contently after swiping his visage free of gore.

After him came a stunningly pretty woman, equally soaked in scarlet. Her apparel was that of a very luscious segmented armor that complimented her ample womanly assets. Eleanor couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy at such a lean and full body. Elizabeth on the other hand, was turning bright red at the sight, the lusty display clashing greatly with her conservative view on the female form and sexuality in general.

"Holy hell, pass me a bloody towel will you?" The Englishwoman took off her pilgrim like hat and discarded the similarly huge pack, letting loose gleaming locks of reddish brown hair, now flaked with blood. Discarded on a nearby counter was the blood slicked serpentine whip of serrated blade that had been the conductor of the macabre symphony moments before, Eleanor felt sick just by looking at it.

"Here," the man tossed her a fresh sheet, which she proceed to wipe her face and hair.

"Argh! These mucks are never coming off!" The woman complained.

"Your damn fault this happened," the man smirked, and was Eleanor wrong that she find the absent of an Asiatic accent weird?

He then saw Eleanor and Elizabeth, dancing plasmid and gun still trained on him.

"I'm not a Nazi, don't shoot," he raised his hands in surrender. "No seriously, lower the gun and power down the plasmid, I'm getting kinda nervous over here."

Not taking her eyes off him, Eleanor slowly lowered her palm and let the fire fizzled to a smoky wisp, while Elizabeth allowed the pistol fell slack at her side.

"Thank you," he nodded.

"It's cute how they think they can hurt you," the woman added snidely and walked behind the bar, sheet still in hand and pointing at a sink. "You think this still works?"

"It's not the zombie apocalypse, so probably," the man shrugged as the woman turned the tap. Predictably the amenities was still functioning.

"Nice," she said and began rinsing her hair.

"But it is, in some way, an apocalypse. Wouldn't you agree?" Robert handed him a mug of water.

"Thanks," he took a few swigs before taking off his military cap and poured the cool content over his head. "And no, I've seen what an apocalypse looks like. This, all in all, is a nice day."

"Who are you?" Elizabeth demanded as she and Eleanor came stand before the strange man, arms folded across her chest to complete her stern posture. Now up close, Eleanor was surprised to see how young he was, the man couldn't have been older than her and Elizabeth. He stared at them, something akin to a bashful smile crept up his cheeks and a sparkling gleam of…admiration? Adoration? Shone brightly in his eyes.

"Well?" Eleanor spoke when he wouldn't stop gawking.

"Oh! Sorry!" He spluttered before donning his cap again, stood to attention and made a crisp salute. "My name is Tangmo, Lord Commissar of the Imperium of Man, attached to the 89th Cadian Imperial Guard regiment. At your service mam, we are here to help you through this quantum mess."

"Nice to meet you…" Eleanor traded unsure look with Elizabeth, his title of a political officer didn't really put her mind at ease. They then turned to his companion.

"Oh me? I'm Lady Inquisitor Laura, Ordo Hereticus, at your service."

"Inquisitor? You mean like the Spanish Inquisition?" Elizabeth eyed Laura dangerously, knowing full well the organization bloody reputation.

"That's right! And no one ever expects us! For our chief weapon is surprise, fear, ruthless efficiency and the fanatical devotion to the God Emperor!" Laura answered cheerily and came to stand beside the snickering Tangmo, hips swaying alluringly as her gaze fell on Brigid and Sally, the sudden shift to solemnity caused Eleanor to tense up, plasmid rushing to the tip of her finger.

"Wait a minute…" Laura pointed at Brigid, "isn't that Dr. Tenenbaum?"

"That is her isn't it?" Tangmo joined in. "Shit, I knew it was her the moment I walked in, just needed the confirmation."

"Whoa, you're looking good for someone who's been to Rapture and back," Laura made her observation. "Several times too."

"Umm…thank you?" Brigid gave her guarded reply.

"Then who the hell is this straggler?" Sally gave a mousey squeak when Laura turned to face her.

"I think I know…" Tangmo snapped his fingers and took a single step forward, leaning over slightly to get a better look. "It's Sally."

"Bullshit! The Little Sister?"

"All grown up, isn't that right?"

Sally nodded briskly in confirmation, to which Tangmo and Laura remained silent as they traded each other unreadable look.

"What is it?" Despite their neutral bearing, Eleanor felt the negative shift in their temperament, the pair looking almost worried as they regarded her.

"Well, we were expecting to escort only the both of you," Tangmo said and then gestured at Brigid and Sally, "those two weren't really part of the equation."

"I'm calling this in," Laura spoke up and began tapping her wrist, which glowed a warm neon hue.

"Just give us a minute," Tangmo held out his hand and went to stand beside her, looking intently at the shining object.

"Might I suggest that you both part ways with Dr. Tenenbaum and Ms. Sally?" Rosalind spoke up, drawing immediate ire from Eleanor.

"Your journey will only get more perilous from here on end," Robert added.

"It would be wise to discard any unwanted weight that will slow you down."

"Sacrifices must, of course, be made to increase the probability of your eventual survival."

"Those two are expendable, you two are not."

"Don't you dare say that!" Eleanor screamed and rounded on the female Lutece, this time Elizabeth didn't held her back as she reached out and grabbed Rosalind coat roughly.

"That is very unwise," Rosalind warned her coldly, but Eleanor didn't backed down.

"I am not leaving them!" Eleanor seethed.

"Eleanor! Please let her go!" Brigid got to her feet and pried Eleanor from Rosalind, then quickly spun her around so that their faces met, two soft hands coming to cup her cheeks.

"Eleanor listen to me," Brigid began, anguish and fear taut on her face. "She is right. I am tired and I doubt that I could be of any use to you in this condition. You need to leave me behind."

"No!" Eleanor shook her head vigorously. "I'm not going to leave you here!"

"Please Eleanor you must see reason, I will only slow you down and you need to get away from Sofia. I've done all I can and I am afraid that there is nothing more that can be spare but time that I can delay in your favor." She turned to Elizabeth then. "Promise me you will look after her."

"Tenenbaum you can't…"

"Promise me, please," she pleaded softly, but there was a resolute quality to the timbre.

"I promise," Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, unhappy with the predicament.

"Mama!" Sally wailed and latched herself on to Brigid, sobbing. "You can't stay! They'll kill you! Please don't do this! Please!"

"Go with them my dear," a single tear streaked down Brigid cheek as she gave Sally a kiss on the forehead. "Please do this one last thing for me and flee. You deserve a life free from this black legacy."

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Sally bawled, arms coiled around the older woman waist.

"Please dear…" Brigid stuttered as sharp gasps began parting her lips. "Please…"

"No! I am not going anywhere without you!" Sally spun to face the Lutece, simmering with uncharacteristic malice. "And there is nothing you can do about it!"

"This is a waste of time," Rosalind patience was reaching its limit. "This foolishness serves nothing but childish sentimentality, a pursue that would ultimately doom yourself and other."

"Shut your mouth!" Eleanor growled, hands balling into fists.

"Shouldn't you attempt to intervene?" Robert turned desperately to Tangmo and Laura, both preoccupied in deep, scowling scrutiny. They spared the squabbling Eleanor and Rosalind a meager of attention, looking more annoyed than concerned.

"You keep them calm," Tangmo waved him away, his tone teetering on agitation. "What's taking him so long to reply?"

"We are not leaving them Rosalind," Elizabeth spoke up, nodding at Eleanor to show her support.

"And to think you would have learnt the last time you allowed such impulse to dictate your decisions," Rosalind shot back.

"What can I say? I guess I'm still human after all," Elizabeth crossed her arms.

"And terribly none the wiser."

"You are not changing our minds."

"Then it is quite fortunate that the decision does not lies with you," Rosalind turned to their armed escort. Sensing the murderous glare shooting their way, Tangmo gingerly looked up and immediately shrunk under Eleanor and Elizabeth burning intensity, nudging Laura nervously.

"Dude…" Tangmo tried to avoid their gaze. "They're giving me evil eyes dude."

"They're just two girls mate, chill out," Laura said dismissively.

"One's basically a super soldiers that can shoot fire and lightning and the one can tear open space and time," Tangmo gulped. "And both look about ready to pounce me."

"Isn't that exactly what you want?" Laura's devilish grin was cut short by sudden pensiveness. "He's typing."

Tangmo and Laura stared intently into the cyan light, hushed anticipation drawing them closer to the Briton's wrist as Eleanor and Elizabeth waited, unhappy with the disparaging display. Eleanor only hardened her scowl as the minutes went on, growing more weary at her chaperons attempt to defuse the dilemma, knowing full well it was simply a charade to supplicate them. They were working for the Lutece after all, of course their decision would fall in line with their employers.

A strange artificial belling ding sounded suddenly and the two lean even closer, mouth moving in silent reading at whatever had appeared in that neon light. Tangmo was the first to react, letting out a dramatic sigh and throwing his hands up to the heaven like a prophet finally meeting his maker, while Laura laughed lowly and turned to Rosalind with such gushing innocence that it can't be genuine.

"Thank the Emperor, Ilúvatar, Paladine, Antimone and Hood," Tangmo mumbled incoherently.

"Aww, too bad love, looks like things are about to get a lot more difficult," Laura smirked.

"What are you two on about?" Rosalind asked hotly.

"New directive ladies," Tangmo ceased his muttering and spun to address them. "All four of you are coming with us, nobody's getting left behind."

Eleanor staggered slightly, feeling all the pent up rage suddenly expelled from her system in a swooning flush. So dizzying was the rush of relief that she had to lean on Elizabeth for support, they shared a tired laugh before turning to the stunned looking Sally and Brigid, sobbing tears quickly turning into one of whimpering smile.

"It seemed that he had changed his mind," Robert spoke up.

"Pray he doesn't change it any further," Tangmo smirked and walked back to his guns, removing the spent magazines.

"Such improvisation is hardly productive," Rosalind refused to let the subject laid to rest.

"That's life man," Tangmo shrugged smugly. "Don't ever expect things to go your way. But I'm pretty satisfy with how things are turning out though."

"Well don't start popping champagne yet love, we got a long way to go," Laura was cleaning her whip, the barbed weapon slithering as if alive. "And we're now carrying extra load."

"I'll protect mama," Sally stepped up, doing her best to appear confident.

"Yeah…I don't think so pipsqueak," Laura gave her scanting assessment.

"Don't worry Sally, we can take care of each other," Elizabeth reassured her, shooting Laura a dark look. The taller woman scoffing at the display.

"She's right, we'll keep you and Brigid safe," Eleanor added.

"Whatever," Laura rolled her eyes and gave the whip a good shake. "Guess that means we're heading to the wharf."

"The extraction team won't be here for a long while," Tangmo was now looking at his own neon wrist. "It'll be better if we find a place to hole up for a while."

"That, we can be of assistance," Robert announced, Rosalind now taking her place beside him. "There is a nice homely little hotel down on Helena Avenue, which me and my sisters had…modified, to put in laymen terms, to serve as a sanctuary while you wait for your eventual reinforcement."

"Somerville's place? But that's six blocks back the way we just came," Eleanor said.

"Christ, can't find anywhere nearer?" Laura asked.

"Oh dear, I had assumed that you wouldn't have problem with such trivial obstacles," venomous satisfaction seeped from Rosalind faint grin.

"Oh no! No problem at all, it's just that one does not simply walk into Mordor bro!" Tangmo exclaimed.

"But simply walk, you will," Robert said. "You might want to continue on your journey soon, I doubt your enemies would remain ignorant of your whereabouts for long."

"Yeah, yeah just give us a few minutes and then we'll be ready," Tangmo brushed Robert off hurriedly and went about checking his ammo pouches, Laura joining him as she inspected her own collection of armaments.

"A little word of caution Elizabeth," Rosalind said, drawing the brunette attention.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Your old guardian is here."

Color drained from Elizabeth visage as another piece of jagged memory assailed her, her breath coming fast and harsh as she backed fearfully away from Rosalind, the herald becoming as frightful as the revelation itself.

"No…" Eleanor quickly reached out to steady the swaying Elizabeth, nothing but absolute fear shone in her bright blue eyes.

"Although he hasn't yet appeared in the flesh, figuratively speaking, we are more than certain that the longer you linger Songbird will no doubt make his appearance," Rosalind then glanced over to Tangmo and Laura. "Did you hear what I said?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Tangmo looked up from tinkering with his oversized gun.

"Songbird is here," Rosalind spoke gravely.

Both chaperones paused in their task of assembling ammunition and gave each other a look of bafflement and utter lack of surprise, as if Rosalind had just told them that the sky was blue or that water was wet.

"Okay." Tangmo deadpanned, his face blank of interest.

"Was there any part of that we were supposed to be even remotely worried?" Laura raised a brow.

"I believe you should young lady!" Rosalind was startled by the easy dismissal. "He is only Columbia greatest weapon and is nigh undefeatable in combat."

"Bitch please!" Laura snapped and brandished her guns. "It's just an oversize robot chicken, even a freaking lasgun can take him down."

"Now see here…"

"I just wasted about nineteen Big Daddies with just a standard Bolt round," Tangmo interrupted before Rosalind can get a sentence out, waving his stubby looking gun. "And Songbird is basically just a bigger version that can fly, so yeah, we are not to overly concern. I mean, come on! All he can do is ram his head into things and punch people with those stubby Wolverine claw thing."

"Songbird is a genetically enhanced apex predator of unmatched prowess," Rosalind pressed on. "For all your boasting, to him you are nothing but prey."

"Nein, wir sind der jäger!" Laura raised her voice to which Tangmo leapt off his feet with a loud whooping, punching vigorously at the empty air.

"Guren no Yumiya!" Tangmo practically sang, and Eleanor admitted he was pretty good, before reaching over to Laura and smacked their open palms together, an exhilarating gesture that Eleanor didn't quite understand. "My only regret is that I wasn't the one who said it."

"Still haven't seen it though," Laura stated apologetically.

"Me neither, but the theme song was fucking badass though."

"I know right? Holy shit."

"What did you just say?" Rosalind cut in to their banter.

"She said 'we are hunters'," Brigid translated for her.

"I see."

"Perhaps this would be an ample time for us to leave, dear sister," Robert piped up. "I believe we have exhausted all means of aid for the moment."

"I heartily agree brother, I have grown very weary of their company," Rosalind said.

"So long!" Tangmo waved energetically.

"Farewell!" Laura did an exaggerated curtsy.

"Auf wiedersehen!"

"Goodbye!"

"Quite." Rosalind hissed before vanishing with her brother, Tangmo and Laura repeated the hand clasping gesture.

"Isn't that from the Sound of Music?" Sally asked, wiping at her bloodshot eyes, the last of the tears having dried away.

"It is," Tangmo nodded. "Seemed like a nice little tune to send them off."

"They do not look please," Brigid observed.

"That's exactly the point," Laura smiled mischievously.

"So what now?" Eleanor spoke.

"You know where this hotel place is, right?" Tangmo asked, slamming a fresh drum magazine into one of his guns. "Lead the way and we'll cover you."

"Well, I know a few alleyways that could keep us out of sight," Eleanor rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "But there will be time when we'll be out in the open, so that part kinda worries me."

"I can still open Tears to help us through some tight spot," Elizabeth said, wiggling her fingers.

"And if all else fails, I can use my plasmids to fend off the splicers and the Columbian," Eleanor added. "But still, I need to be more conservative with it now, I think I'm running low on ADAM."

"I thought you got so juiced up that you have a near infinite repository of ADAM?" Laura asked her.

"It still need time to replenish, I haven't used this much plasmid since I escape from Rapture with my father…" Eleanor stopped herself suddenly and shot Laura a hard look. "How did you know that?"

"We know everything on all four of you," Laura said nonchalantly as she swept her eyes over them.

"How much do you know about us?" Elizabeth now questioned, taking threatening steps toward Laura.

"Everything," Laura leaned down until her nose was almost touching Elizabeth's own.

"What is there like a file on all of us somewhere?" Eleanor eyes darted between Tangmo and Laura, feeling static shooting across her hands.

"Well the Bioshock wiki have everything we needed, beside the actual game itself of course," Laura backed away from the glaring Elizabeth.

"Wiki? What the bloody hell are you talking about?!" Eleanor shook her head, feeling the same exasperation when dealing with the Lutece returning.

"Cut it out Laura, you're confusing them," Tangmo approached, hands clasped behind his back and chest puffed up, exuding calm, authoritative charisma with effortless ease. "Look, I'm not gonna be cryptic and shit, so I'm going to give it to you straight. Just promise to keep an open mind, okay?"

"I'll try," Eleanor didn't trust his apparent sincerity.

"Okay," Tangmo took a deep breath before continuing. "Do you read things like comic books or novels of the fictitious nature?"

"Not really my cup of tea."

"Okay, okay, bad example on the comic book part. But have you read anything that is science fiction or fantasy in nature? You know, books like Dune, the Dying Earth, Conan the Barbarian…the Lord of the Rings?"

"Oh! I read it!" Sally piped up, waving her hand energetically.

"All three?" Tangmo turned to Sally.

"Oh yes! All three books, many times over."

"Good taste," Tangmo nodded, impressed, before diverting his attention to Sally. "You know all those characters? Frodo, Sam, Aragorn, Gandalf? And all the heroic things they did like destroying the One Ring? Well, what you read wasn't a piece of fiction, it's actually a historical account."

"…what do you mean?" Sally was perplexed but Eleanor, and Elizabeth from the look of it, was catching on to what Tangmo was implying.

"Those books weren't just pieces of imagination that was inked and printed but a documentation of the most important events that had transpired on that plane of existence," Tangmo waited as Sally eyes widened with dawning comprehension. "Yes, what happened in those books, are real. Every words ever written are a living, breathing world just like this one, with its own naturally law and inner machination."

"I'm pretty sure we are not supposed to tell them this love," Laura looked at Eleanor and Elizabeth warily, expecting some kind of outburst.

"Trust is brought with honesty," Tangmo didn't look at her when he spoke. "Besides they're big girls, I'm sure they can take it."

"So you're saying that we're characters in a book?" Eleanor reiterated the given hypothesis slowly, strangely unmoved by this revelation. No anger or disbelief, just a simple recognition of the idea, nothing else.

"Well, not books per se, but video games," Tangmo went on.

"What's a video game?" Elizabeth now asked.

"It's an interactive storytelling medium," Tangmo continued. "Instead of just seeing an event as a disembodied witness, you are literary part of the story, guiding your main character through trail and tribulation, experiencing his or her triumph or downfall."

"So are we just set pieces?" Brigid spoke up, looking rather perturbed. The idea of a life absent free will and forever at a whim of an unseen creator was not sitting well with the good doctor. "Just something dreamed up for a captivated audience? All the horror that we've seen, all the madness that we have suffered, all the people we have lost, are they all just for the sake of entertainment? How much of everything we remembered and experienced are real and how much were manufactured?"

"Everything is real," Laura interrupted then. "So calm down and take a breather will you?"

"Alright, sorry," Brigid heaved a slow, long drawn breath, the simple exercise calming her. "But how could you tell?"

"Because your story has already ended. Like Tangmo said, those books and games are just major events that got recorded. Everything else, your lives before and after the main plot ended, is yours and yours alone. Bloody hell, this right now is real and it's not in any of the games."

"Epilogues are but prologues to a new beginning," Tangmo added sagely, his eyes felling on Eleanor and Elizabeth. "You two are taking this better than I thought."

"From a quantum stand point what you said is theoretically sound," Elizabeth shrugged. "Myself and the Lutece are living proof of the existence of an infinite number of universes, each with its own variations and players."

"Yeah, but that's only one reality," Tangmo said. "What you and the twins perceive are just deviation of the same thing. We are not talking about alternate reality here, but infinite number of multiverses."

"And these other places in the multiverse are so radically different from our own that nothing would be recognizable to us?" Eleanor ventured.

"Oh yeah," Tangmo nodded.

"That would explain your dreams," Eleanor turned to Elizabeth who nodded thoughtfully.

"What dream?"

"Oh? I thought you knew everything about us," Elizabeth gave a smug grin, to which he gave his bashful own, turning a little red.

"Obviously not."

"Well I had a rather vivid dream last night, and what I saw seem to support your theory."

"That actually reminds me, the bubble that is preserving this universe singularity is pretty busted right now, so you might want be a little careful when opening a Tear because God's know what the hell is going to come through."

Eleanor and Elizabeth cast each other a quick guilty look, remembering the arachnid thing that attacked Fitzroy. Tangmo caught the glance but simply chose to ignore it.

"So," Tangmo eased his stance, shoulder drooping minutely. "There's the truth ladies."

"What is your job here then?" Eleanor admits that she found Tangmo blunt honesty admiring and strangely reassuring, but the multiverse explanation didn't exactly gave much insight into his actual function beyond that of their protection.

"We're here to make sure that the good guys win," Laura gave the whip a few swings. "Now are we done here? Look, I know you're enjoying this little cuddly moment with them but we're kinda on a tight schedule here."

"Dude, come on man, that's not true…" Tangmo mumbled shyly, his boyish smile tinged pink as he attempted to compose himself. Eleanor couldn't help but giggle at the sight, underneath the blood and grime he was still a boy, his childlike innocence still intact despite the apparent violent nature of his occupation.

"Playing around with girls when you can have a woman," Laura sneered at him, and was that jealousy Eleanor saw?

"Hey, I thought you like playing with girls too!" A wine bottle flew across the room and narrowly missed Tangmo head. Another quickly followed and would have connected with his forehead if Eleanor didn't stop it with her Telekinesis mid-flight.

"I thought we were wasting time?" Eleanor tossed the bottle back to Laura, who caught then crushed it into streaming red shards.

"We are," Laura put the pilgrim hat back on before looking over Eleanor and Elizabeth judgmentally. "Can any of you actually fight?"

"How did you think we got this far?" Elizabeth eyed Laura fiercely.

"Running away and luck?"

"We can pull our own weight if that's what you're wondering," Elizabeth huffed.

"I'm sure you can," Tangmo went over to his pack, withdrawing a few items. "But there's nothing wrong with a little tactical advantage either. Here, take this."

He handed Elizabeth a black handgun, polished to a shine, smaller and more ergonomic looking than the clunky Mauser she was carrying. Putting aside the older model, Elizabeth gingerly took the pistol and weighed it in her palm.

"It's lighter," Elizabeth observed.

"Glock 19, thirteen rounds, one already in the chamber," Tangmo walked up to Elizabeth, his finger tracing over the weapon various compartments. "Flick the safety switch when you're going to shoot, this thing got a hair trigger so be careful when you aim, a little squeeze and it'll go off. Give me a yell when its empty, I'll toss you a fresh clip."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," Elizabeth nodded.

"You're welcome," Tangmo said hurriedly and turned away, blushing, and came to stand in front of the smirking Eleanor.

"Right, where was I? Oh yeah, you don't use guns right?"

"I'm not too overly fond of it."

"Yeah and you probably don't need it to, what with the plasmids and all, so here," he produced a brass knuckle and a plain looking dagger that gleamed starry silver, the hilt stylized into a roaring lion. Eleanor looked at him with plain amusement.

"Not the most typical gift for a girl, is it?" Eleanor teased.

"I suppose not," Tangmo fidgeted. "I don't think I need to teach you how to use this, do I?"

"I'm a quick learner," Eleanor tucked the dagger into her belt and slid the knuckle into her pants pocket as Tangmo went over to Sally, looking her up and down for a moment before shaking his head, crushing her rather expectant look.

"What about me?" Sally disappointment quick morphed into one of irritation.

"Just stay close, alright?"

"I can fight!"

"Everyone can, but being good at it is another matter entirely," Tangmo gave Sally a friendly smack on the shoulder, "be our eyes and ears and stay low."

"But!" Tangmo was already moving on to Brigid, his movement surprisingly light despite the mass of armor he carried, leaving behind a peevish Sally who fumed and grumbled, protest muffled behind puffy cheeks. But to everyone surprise, Laura was already handing the doctor her side arm.

"Take this and leave the six shooter love, revolver aren't exactly a smart choice in a firefight," Laura held out a pistol, similar in design to the one Tangmo had given Elizabeth.

"I admit, I did not have the opportunity to chose," Brigid took it and stuffed it into her belt fluidly, showing familiarity with the apparatus. She nodded a thank to the Briton before turning to Sally. "How is your ankle dear?"

"Still a little sore," Sally tried easing her weight on the injured foot and flinched with a yelp, the brief rest did little to ease her injury. Noticing the girl's pained expression Laura walked over to her own pack and took out a white spray can, bright green cross adorned the surface, and a roll of bandage.

"Sit," Laura pointed to a nearby chair, her command snappy as the whip she wielded, Sally quickly complied. Taking off her shoe, Laura swiftly applied the misty silver spray on her bruised ankle, wrapped the thin cloth around the injured limb then applied another layer of spray to top it off. The entire process took less than thirty seconds much to the astonishment of Eleanor, done with startling martial precision and speed.

"Give me a little twirl love," Laura spun her finger as Sally got to her feet.

"That sounded fifty shades of wrong dude," Tangmo quipped.

"Shut it."

"It's doesn't hurt anymore!" Sally brightened after the first few shaky strides, before bounding with new found limberness. "Oh, thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah, can we go now?" Laura turned to Tangmo and was about to unleash another tirade when an acute sharpness came over her handsome feature, gauntleted hand reaching for her gun. Tangmo spun and leveled his weapon in the same direction she'd aimed, the long barreled rifle trained on a small pulsing Tear on a table.

"Well would you look at that," Laura waved Tangmo forward, the boy swung around to flank the Tear while the fiery Englishwoman brought up the center, her large pistol pointed forward.

"Open it," Laura told Elizabeth.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth walked up to the Tear, eyes squinted as she inspect the quantum anomaly. "I can't see what it is."

"Just open the bloody thing ya git!" Laura snapped.

"Fine!" Elizabeth shot back and opened the Tear, Tangmo and Laura tightened their stance as white flooded the room, only to relax once they saw what stood before them.

"The fuck?" Tangmo prodded the tall candy striped cup with his gun, Eleanor could see the icy sapphire content sloshing within through the transparent semi-circle top, a large straw of the same hue sticking out.

"Holy shit is that…" Laura walked up to it, unable to hide her excitement.

"It's Slusho!" She proclaimed and held up the cup, "Blueberry Zoom too! Ha! I haven't had one of these in so long!"

"You can't drink just six dude!" Tangmo added before noticing the four women, all giving him the same look of confusion as to why such a simple thing could elicit such exhilaration. He looked at them then back to the cup, then to Laura who was inching her lips hungrily closer to the straw.

"Give it to them first," Tangmo told her.

Laura looked ready to rebuke him but softened her regard once she laid eyes on them, something akin to pity crept over her usual snarky disposition, the cup held suspended before her in neutral indecision.

"Here," she relented suddenly and handed the cup to Brigid, cool droplets snaking across the bright paper surface. "Your stomach looks like it needs more happiness than we do. Share it around, it'll do you all a world of good."

Gingery, Brigid placed the straw to her lips and began consuming the Slusho beverage, her eyes lighted up as she quickly swallow the refreshing concoction.

"Mein Gott!" Brigid exclaimed after a few mouthful before handing the cup to Sally, who consumed it with a frightening gusto.

"Oh my God this is so good! Here Eleanor, try it!" Sally was practically bouncing as she handed the now half full cup to Eleanor. With a giggle, Eleanor drank the Slusho brew and immediately knew why it had spruced up Brigid and Sally so. The near frozen drink of finely shaved ice was unbelievably rejuvenating, filling her with giddy, sparking sensation that dances across her body, weariness banished by a tidal wave returning energy.

"You got try this!" With a perky smile, Eleanor handed the cup to Elizabeth and watched as pleasure melted her visage. Buzzing with a sudden burst of vigor, Eleanor snapped her finger and watched with unhidden mirth as flame lit up across her palm, bright and fierce as if the plasmid haven't been used in days. The Slusho drink must have did something to the sea slug and make it secret an extra dosage of ADAM.

"Hey! Leave some for me you greedy tart!" Laura exclaimed, pointing at the indulging Elizabeth.

Eyes narrowing evilly, Elizabeth made a show of drinking the blue elixir with slow, gloating gratification, while taking petite nun like gait toward Laura. All the while enjoying every dwindling drops of the frozen delight.

"If that cup is empty, I swear on me mum it's not gonna end good for you lassie," Laura accent suddenly took a Scottish tinge as Elizabeth halted crisply before her, taking one last slurping swig before shaking the cup, her ears craning close.

"I think there's still some left," Elizabeth spoke sweetly before handing Laura the cup.

Snatching the drink from her, Laura guzzled down four big gulp before handing the cup to Tangmo, who popped open the transparent top and poured the remaining content into his thirsty maw.

"Nice," Tangmo tossed aside the empty cup and went over to his pack, slung it on his back, jumping a few times to ease the weight onto his body. "I forgot how much of a rush Slusho gave. Damn thing is literally drug."

"That's what makes it amazing love," Laura picked up her own pack and walked to the back door, tucking the whip and pistol into her belt.

"Freaking junkie," Tangmo muttered before turning to Eleanor, "you ready to go?"

"Yes," Eleanor nodded, waving Sally and Brigid over while Elizabeth quickly came to stand by her side.

"Stay behind us, we'll go check if the coast is clear," Tangmo said and sped down the dark corridor after Laura, his rifle held at the ready.

"Think we can trust them?" Elizabeth leaned close to whisper into Eleanor's ear.

"I don't know, but they don't seem that bad," Eleanor admitted as Brigid and Sally, fatigue washed away by the Slusho drink, hurried into the corridor.

"Tangmo, yes, but that Laura doesn't seem like good company."

"It's the queen bee mentality, she's just being immature," Eleanor then lowered her voice to a hush, grinning. "If I didn't know better, I think she feels threatened by us, the queen never like to share her subjects with other aspiring females."

"I heard that!" Laura boomed from the corridor.

"I think they kinda have a point," Tangmo observed as Eleanor and Elizabeth went into the narrow hallway, seeing him and Laura leaning against the door, Brigid and Sally huddling nearby. "You are acting exceptionally bitchy today."

"You fucking traitor!" Laura spat.

"So is it safe outside?" Eleanor cut in.

"Oh yeah," Tangmo nodded and drew a long silver knife from his belt, the blade rasped hungrily as he attached it to the barrel of his rifle.

"A little bit old fashion, no?" Brigid asked.

"I like to get up close and personal," Tangmo tapped the bright pristine screen on his wrist and turned back to them. "Cover your ears."

They did and watched as Tangmo brought his finger down on the glowing visor and said:

"I see fire."

The world shuddered to a shattering explosion.


	11. Worlds Collide

Elizabeth slowly lowered her hands once the concussive blast stilled to a quiver, lazy puffs of dust ebbed through the slits between the doors and its frame. Standing beside the threshold was the two sentinels procured by the Lutece. Tangmo, the oriental, leveled his gun at the door and nodded to Laura, the ill-tempered Briton, who slowly reached out and wrapped her carapace fingers around the brass doorknob.

"Lady first," Tangmo smirked.

"You are too kind sir," Laura nodded and turns it careful, the scraping of iron and wood almost muted by the delicate movement.

Despite Eleanor reassurance Elizabeth couldn't help but shuddered at the gnawing trepidation chilling over her bones. Something about these two chaperones didn't quite sit right with her. Their ease and unhidden affinity toward violence was frightening, to put lightly. When Booker had shown weariness and even regret when taking lives back in Columbia, Tangmo and Laura were remorseless and had derived, if Elizabeth was correct in her assessment, satisfaction from their kill.

"Oi!" Laura hissed and poked Elizabeth's shoulder, the sharpened finger digging into her skin.

"Ow! What?!" She snapped.

"Pay attention will you? Bloody hell, get your head out of the cloud and focus."

Elizabeth wanted to retaliate but instead clamped her mouth shut, teeth gritted as she forced down the boiling frustration of having to be in the company of this infuriating woman.

Then without warning Laura threw open the door, piercing glare flooded the dark corridor as two black shapes slipped soundlessly into the blinding sun. Blinking away the stingy light, clarity return to Elizabeth just as Tangmo reappeared beyond the doorway, waving them over.

"All clear, let's go," His tone was hushed but sharp. "Hurry!"

Sally and Tenenbaum quickly dashed into the back alley with Elizabeth and Eleanor a few steps behind, all four crouching and looking skyward, watching the ledges above for lurking hostiles. Thankfully, the alley was empty beside Tangmo and Laura, still as a statue, their guns trained down either end of the alley.

"Which way?" Laura asked.

"Just stay close and follow me," Eleanor move to take the lead but Laura outstretched arm stopped her.

"Point the way and stay behind me, alright?"

"If that's what you want," Eleanor rolled her eyes and pointed forward. "That way."

Nodding, Laura waved her hand forward and bounded down the alley, Eleanor and Elizabeth rushing to keep up. Sally and Tenenbaum gingerly following in their wake while Tangmo brought up the rear, rifle leveled against the way they came.

Laura's fist shot up as she reached the alley mouth, signaling for a stop, before doing a rapid succession of military signs, her palm opened and closed in a language Elizabeth didn't understand. Tangmo sped past her and lean flat on the wall opposite Laura, both peering down the street, guns raise with fingers coiled around the triggers.

"So far so good," Laura lowered her repeater by a fraction. "Where next?"

Eleanor pointed to the rows of building looming before them.

"Those houses ahead, that's Amaranthe Boulevard, the posh place. All the buildings are connected and made up an entire block. If we could get inside we can bypass the street completely."

"Sound capital," Laura grinned and tilted her head to Tangmo. "You first."

Tangmo let out a grunting laugh and bend forward, ready to dash into the debris strewed but otherwise empty double lane road.

"The Asian dies first, huh?" He gave her a snide raise of a brow.

"Oh yeah," Laura lips curved up devilishly as Tangmo sprinted forward, head low and gun sweeping across the ravaged landscape before sliding, quite theatrically Elizabeth might add, toward a burnt car and taking cover behind it, rifle propped on the charcoaled hood as he waved them over.

"Showoff," Laura muttered under her breath and snapped her fingers at Sally and Tenenbaum, getting their attention.

"Go," she pointed to the waiting Tangmo.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Sally said, giving the road an apprehensively glance.

"It appears quiet enough," Tenenbaum gave her warily input, grip tightening on her pistol. "But peace can always be so deceiving."

"Don't get your bloody knickers in a twist, there's nothing out there," Laura hissed and looked at her glowing wrist displayer thing. Elizabeth was leaning closer to get a better look at the contraption when the light went off, leaving a polished screen with her curious face staring back.

"Besides, if anyone's going to die first it's him, so go already," seeing Laura growing impatient, Sally and Tenenbaum quickly made their way across the street.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Eleanor asked, perturbed by the woman gross dismissal of her companion.

"Slasher Law of Elimination," Laura shrugged, ignoring Eleanor look of utter bafflement. "It's kind of a joke between us."

"Why don't I just open a Tear?" Elizabeth changed the subject. "It'll save us a lot of time."

"Too flashy, too loud, too obvious," Laura continued.

"Well, you're not exactly dress covertly either."

"Touché. But truth be told I just don't trust your Tear to be reliable right now."

"I'll have you know that my powers are both stable and reliable."

"I rather take my chance with a bullet, if you don't mind."

"It's a lot more reliable than you'll ever be," a childish outburst, one that Elizabeth regretted immediately when Laura rounded on her.

"What was that princess?"

"Would you knock it off already?! We don't have time for…" Eleanor chastising was cut short by the rapid staccato of gunfire.

Flinching, Elizabeth's head snapped toward the street to see Sally screaming and curling flat against the ruined car, Tangmo and Tenenbaum firing into the howling of ranks of splicers rushing toward them, barking mad and angry.

Many fell in blooming scarlet mists, but more pressed on and Elizabeth could see that they were not normal splicers. Some moved with boneless limberness and agility, using their arms as forelimbs to propel themselves forward, fording through the intense hail of bullets. Others disappeared in puffs of red smoke only to reappear a second later at a different place. Tenenbaum gasped and trained her pistol on them, only for the masked splicers to giggle and vanished before she could pull the trigger.

"Hahahaha! Too slow!" The mad splicer crooned as she blinked in and out of corporeality. "You'll never catch me!"

"Scheisse!" Tenenbaum cursed as her gun clicked empty, the spent magazine sliding from its chamber.

"Here!" Tangmo tossed the doctor a fresh clip just as a splicer cartwheeled itself over her, landing with animalistic grace before Sally who shrieked at the grotesque snarl. He was raising his meat hook to strike the blonde when Tangmo tackled him, the glistening tip of his bayonet punching through just beneath the splicer's left collarbone. The deformed man squirmed and howled but was quickly pinned to the ground, his hooks tore into the sleeves of Tangmo's coat, sparks flew where rusty tips raked metallic vambrace.

"Motherfucker, my coat!" Tangmo yelled, wrenching his bayonet free from the splicers chest and plunging it back down on the man screaming face, the blade ramming through his skull, ending with a sharp clink as the pointed tip meet hardened tarmac.

The splicer went still and Tangmo yanked the silver knife loose with a wet rasp just as one of the teleporting splicer appeared behind him, a wicked knife raised for the killing blow.

"That's not very nice!" She shrieked but was cut down by Tenenbaum who unloaded the entire magazine on the jittery woman, tuning her into a bloody twitching mess.

"Holy shit, thanks doc!" Tangmo tipped his cap before spinning to face another splicer leaping clear over the car, talon like claws outstretched and gleaming. A big slab of concrete flew pass Tangmo and connected with the man's head, the crunching impact threw him barreling to ground where he went still.

"Nice throw love," Laura gave Eleanor a thumps up as she bounded toward the remaining splicers.

"Thanks," Eleanor reply was drowned out by the erupting gunfire. So much for stealth.

"Let's go," Elizabeth took off with Eleanor in tow, sprinting to where Sally, Tenenbaum and Tangmo were huddled, the boy was finishing off the last teleporting splicer with a vicious knee strike.

"And stay dead!" Tangmo exclaimed as the splicer sagged to the ground, neck contorted at a grotesque angle. Elizabeth choked back bile at the sight.

"Oh bugger, here comes the cavalry," Laura slinked down beside him and slammed a new magazine into her repeater. Craning her head above the twisted wreckage, Elizabeth saw a column of Founder marching at a jogging pace up the street, two of them carrying the large cylindrical tube of a rocket launcher on their shoulders.

"Wonder if I can shoot a rocket midflight," Tangmo mused as he leveled his other bulky gun.

"I don't want to find out!" Sally piped up behind him.

"A Tear!" Elizabeth pointed at a rather large slit shimmering lazily just down the road. Seeing the anomaly, the Founders cautiously skirted it like stream flowing around a rock.

"Open it," Tangmo said rather encouragingly.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked. "Because I can't see what it is."

"Don't worry, we got your back," Tangmo urges on.

Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth braced herself then reached toward the glowing threshold, muscles straining as she pried the laceration opened. The Founders shouted and cursed, weapons swung to face the sudden white glare, but even as the rush of static monochrome pass their guns remained cold and quite, the soldiers of Columbia were frozen breathless in place and Elizabeth, to her horror, saw what had arrested their attention so.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Laura cursed and took aim.

"Hold your fire, hold your fire!" Tangmo came to her side, rifle leveled on the hulking monstrosity Elizabeth had summoned.

It was…a man? Large and burly, he was draped in a sleeveless hospital gown splattered with dark dried blood, a surgical mask covered his face, his skin appeared to be stitched roughly together and was showing early signs of decay. And attached to his right arm was a rusty chainsaw, humming with deranged anticipation.

"Holy shit…" Laura chuckled lowly as the goliath swept his gaze over the encircling Founders, leering predatorily at the nervous men and women, calm despite his predicament.

The man made a sudden jerk to the left and the Founder officer, already looking more on edge than her men, yelped and discharged her hand cannon point blank into his chest, blood spurting from the back.

But the man remained upright, unaffected by the gunshot, a grating demonic laughter reverberating from his muffled mouth.

"You might want to cover Sally's eyes for this," Laura warning, however, came too late.

The chainsaw roared to life and swung down on the woman, her agonizing howl drowned out by the whirring, mechanical shriek. The spinning rusty teeth tore into her right shoulder and exiting her left hip in a rupturing display of scarlet and gore. Sally's scream was blessedly short thanks to Tenenbaum quickly yanking her behind their cover, while Elizabeth and Eleanor could only stomached a few seconds more before slumping behind the car with a fierce shudder, pale and sickened by the carnage unleashed on the Founders.

Tangmo and Laura, however, were watching the monster's rampage with chortling glee, relishing in the unfolding slaughter, weapons relaxed in their grip. What the hell was wrong with these two?

"Oh shit dude! Use the bazooka! Fuck!" Tangmo hooted and a gurgling cry answered him.

"Too slow," Laura smirked, canines flashing bright.

"Yeah, but in their defenses, the Scrakes are pretty goddamn fast."

"I guess, but those Founders doesn't stand a chance regardless. Jesus, look at all the mess."

"Between this and the Fleshpound, what do you think is worse?"

"That's like asking whether you like a knife in your eyes or in your nails."

"Good point…So which one?"

"Oh, the Scrake by far no question about it, I mean shit, look at all the blood, it's going to be a bitch cleaning all this crap up."

"And like I said, they're fucking fast."

"…Remember that one chav bastard that chased Henry through the facility for twenty minutes straight?"

"Holy shit, yes! Can't stop laughing for almost a week after the footages came in, that was some grade A Fail Army shit."

"Reminded me more of a classic Tom & Jerry episode," Laura glance at Elizabeth and Eleanor, wicked grinned etched across her face. "We'll show it to you when we get out of here."

"In HD," Tangmo added but Elizabeth didn't understand.

"In HD," Laura repeated before shifting her attention back to the butchery, nothing but the spluttering chainsaw could be heard now. Swallowing down her nausea, Elizabeth peeked above the rim and saw the creature, Scrake as Tangmo and Laura had called it, drenched in dripping gore and bleeding profusely from many gashes and cuts, stalking toward them.

"Ahhh! Kill it! Kill it!" Sally screamed, having wiggled out of Tenenbaum grip and seeing the Scrake drawing close.

"Get inside the house," Tangmo lead her and Tenenbaum toward the nearest townhouses as Laura shot the beast with her huge pistol. The light weapon proving more devastating than anything the Founders wielded for a single shot send the Scrake careening to the ground, a charred stump smoldered where his head used to be. Churning bile rushed up her throat and this time Elizabeth wasn't able to hold it back.

"Ew…" Laura holstered her guns and strolled after the others, ignoring the teary glare Elizabeth shot her way.

"Easy, I got you," Eleanor carefully hefted Elizabeth up and guided her toward the townhouse, Tangmo crouching beside the open door, quickly waving them over. Feeling the wooziness passing Elizabeth quickened her pace, falling in sync with Eleanor, and rushed into the lavishly furnished welcome lounge. Tangmo darted inside after them and slammed the door shut.

"Here, this should help," he pulled a small canteen from his belt and offered it to Elizabeth.

She nodded her thanks and took a few sips, rinsing the bitter taste from her mouth before handing the tin flask back to him.

"Keep it," Tangmo held up his hand.

"Thank you," Elizabeth smiled warmly and stashed it in her skirt pocket, Tangmo shying away just as pink began shading his cheeks.

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Laura shook her head and glance at Eleanor, "so where to now?"

"The backdoor opens to a huge garden that connects every house in the block," Eleanor said.

"So it's like one big, opening air communal area for people to hang out?"

"Pretty much."

"Let's hope nobody stopped by for tea then," Laura reached for her whip and let it uncoiled to the floor. "Okay ladies, let's…"

"Wait!" Tangmo hissed and held up his fist, sniffing the air before saying softly. "Hide."

He made quick gestures with his hand and glided silently to lean beside an open doorway, Laura swiftly positioned herself on the opposite side while stealing quick glance at her wrist. Sally and Tenenbaum scrambled behind a posh sofa while Elizabeth and Eleanor took position behind a waist high cupboard, pistol and plasmid at the ready as conversation echoed down the hall.

"You sure about this?" Came a male voice, anxious and mouse like.

"I heard people talking in here, now shut up!" Another spat gruffly as heavy footfall thumped nearer.

Elizabeth tightened her grasp on the pistol polished grip, thump flicking the safety switch and finger coiling around the trigger as two Atlas's guerillas strode into the hall. Their presence sending unwanted shivers down her spines as images of needles and picks flashes across her mind.

Tangmo gave a loud cough, drawing their attention before they can get a good look around.

Silent descended as the guerillas gawked at the commissar, who returned their stunned visage with one of blank annoyance.

"Wassup?" Tangmo greeted just as recognition dawned on them.

"It's him!" One of the guerrillas moved to raise his gun but was stopped by Laura, who had been standing less than two feet behind them, wrapping her armored arms around his neck.

The man brief and feeble struggle ended with a savage snap, lolling head bended horrifically over his shoulder, limp body crumbled to the ground like discard garbage as Laura dusted off her hands.

His companion didn't have time to react as Tangmo stuck him with four quick punches to his chest and abdomen. Staggering, the man dropped his shotgun and fell with a thud on his back, choking and croaking as if strangled, desperate hands clawing at his neck as he twitched like a man drowning. After a few seconds he went still, dead.

"How'd you know they were coming? They weren't even on the beeper," Laura tapped her wrist.

"The smell," Tangmo pointed to his nose. "In Bangkok you can tell there's a farang coming down the road just by the odor."

"What did you do?" Tenenbaum came to examine the man Tangmo took down, frightened yet curious.

"Pressure points, I punched and overloaded his nerves, stopping his heart," Tangmo said. "Didn't Suchong tell you anything about acupuncture and stuff?"

"He was very reclusive."

"Oh yeah I forgot," Tangmo nodded sharply to Laura and bounded down the corridor. "These two better not be scouts."

"You just totally missed a Kenshiro moment, you know that?" Laura quipped before dragging the two bodies effortlessly across the room and stuffing them carelessly into a corner.

"How can you be so calm?" Elizabeth couldn't hold her peace any longer. "All the killings, all the deaths…how can you two be so aloof to it all?"

Expecting a scathing remark, Elizabeth was surprised to see Laura's feature softened somewhat, sardonic laugh parting rueful lips.

"Let's just say that we've seen and done things that would shatter the spirit of lesser men and women," Laura said. "But instead of breaking, the ashes and bloods in our wake hardened our souls and gave us clarity."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we learn to recognize what is worth risking our lives for. Objects or people that must be defended and cherished at all cost. Even if it means damning ourselves to the deepest pit of hell, we'll smile knowing that we've done some good in the universe, like helping the good guys win you know? The flip side of this is that we are quick to demote any value from those that seek to endanger what we protect, hence our lack of empathy for the morons we kill."

"We appreciate the both of you risking your lives for us, we truly do. It's just…I've never been in the company of anyone so at peace with such morbid occupation."

"And enjoying themselves so much," Elizabeth flinched at Eleanor words, fearing that the remark might offended Laura. Instead, she scoffed halfheartedly.

"Hah! The key to success is to enjoy what you do love. And trust me we're deeply in love with what we're doing."

"It's also very flattering that you see us as someone that needed to be protected and cherished," Elizabeth grin only grew wider as Laura sneered at her.

"Don't push it princess," Laura turned away to gaze down the corridor, Elizabeth and Eleanor gave each other a snarky smile just as Tangmo remerged, looking slightly troubled as he sprinted down the furnished passageway.

"Well, fuck my life," he cursed, coming to stand next to Laura.

"That bad?" Laura raised a brow.

"They set up a communication center in the garden, must be at least fifty of them over there."

"So much for moving unseen."

Tangmo addressed Eleanor then, "these houses are connected right?"

"They are," Eleanor nodded.

"But not with doors?"

"Well, people like their privacy."

Tangmo appeared thoughtful for a moment before shifting his gaze to Laura. More specifically her two iron cladded hands. The Briton eyes widened and the boy smirked as their frame of thought came in conjunction.

"Oh, hell no…" Laura shook her head exasperatedly.

"Punch through the walls," Tangmo promptly ignored her and laid out his absurd plan. "You're wearing a Sororitas patterned armor, last time I check, you can punch an Ork through a plasteel building with that thing. So, make us a path and plow your way through the houses."

"I'm not the fucking Hulk you twat!" Laura blistered, face reddening.

"Nah, you're more like She-Hulk all things considered," Tangmo hands shot up in panic surrender as Laura reeled back her clenched fist. "I mean Power Girl! Power Girl dude!"

"That's better."

"But wouldn't they hear us?" Elizabeth voiced the plan most obvious flaw.

"Yeah genius, breaking down wall isn't exactly quite," Laura agreed.

"There's a Tear outside," Tangmo pointed down the hall and Elizabeth paled, for the first in her life she was truly frightened by what her power could wrought upon the world.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," she began, eyes downcast.

"We need the distraction Elizabeth," Tangmo continued sternly. "Look, I know you're a little spook right now, but our options are pretty limited. We can always turn around and find another way but I'm not really liking the odds out there. I can see that you're scare but trust me, I'm not going to let anything that comes out of that Tear hurt you and yours, this I promise."

Elizabeth felt her heart skip a beat, blushing warmth fluttered in her chest, realizing in that moment why Eleanor was so ready to trust the boy. His bluntness was strangely disarming and, she would dare say, charming in its bare honesty. Despite her own trepidation, Elizabeth could feel her gnawing fear being brought to heel by Tangmo guileless encouragement. And his soft, handsome smile was a compelling persuasion in its own right.

"Okay," Elizabeth nodded. "Lead the way Tangmo."

"We'll be up in the attic," Eleanor said. "It would be where the building is less sound, structurally speaking, it would make the demolition work easier." She led Sally, Tenenbaum and Laura up the stairs, but stop at the foot and turned to Elizabeth with a sly grin. "Don't take too long now you two!"

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth blurted as Eleanor bounded up the stair, Tangmo titling his ornate cap to hide his own blush.

"Let's go," he spluttered quickly as led her down the hallway and into a lofty kitchen. Crouching low, they ducked under a large window that granted an unobstructed view to the garden beyond.

Peering over the spotless glass, Elizabeth could see Atlas's men and some Founder and Vox milling about, fiddling with their communication instruments and scrambling to the barking of their superior officers. And surrounded by scientific apparatuses was the crackling Tear, white coated scientists turning measurement knobs and documenting their result on notepads.

With a nod from Tangmo, Elizabeth reached out toward the Tear, felt the rush of power pickling her fingertips and pulled, the machinery going haywire as white enveloped the garden.

What came out of the Tear stunned Elizabeth at first, but her moment of bewilderment quickly grew into one of glowing awe. The animals standing before her were reptilian in appearance, the smallest of the bunch came in pack of eights. Lean, graceful, and showing unnerving hint of intelligence as they regarded the gawking scientists and soldiers, vertical pupils widened with recognition.

Towering above them were two gargantuan beasts, similar in composition but bearing very distinct and diverse physiology. They were hunched to be almost horizontal, but even then Elizabeth could see that they were at least two stories tall.

One was very plain looking with huge jaws and stubby short arms, while the other sported a red dorsal fin that stretched across its back, long pair of arms and a narrow crocodile like face.

It took a moment for Elizabeth to remember the National Geographic article she read a few weeks before that talked about prehistoric reptile paleontologists love to dig up. What were they called? Dinosaur?

Beside her, Tangmo mouth was hanging wide agape.

"I can already hear John Williams's theme…" he said dreamingly but quickly became uneasy when a scientist reached over to one of the smaller creature. "Yeah, that's not good idea."

And of course it wasn't.

A shrill roar shattered the whimsy tranquility as the reptile open its maw, rows of needle sharp fangs gleamed like pearl before snapping shut on the scientist's arm, ripping it free from the torso in a gushing spray of blood. The other seven shot toward the stunned soldiers, leaping and felling on them in a flurry of talons, crimson streaked the air.

Gunfire sounded, but this seem to agitate the bigger animals who plowed into the mass of soldiers and screaming scientists, wreaking indiscriminate havoc across the garden, every footfall sending rippling tremor across the room.

No longer needing to hide, Tangmo nonchalantly walked over to the back door and locked it.

"They can open doors, I'm not even kidding about this," Tangmo said when Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look. "Come on let's go, we got our distraction."

They rushed back down the corridor, the piercing squeal grew more muffled as they quickly ascended the circular staircase, Elizabeth in front with Tangmo following behind, the boy snapping his head back the way they came every few steps as if expecting something to follow them. Climbing up a ladder that led to a dim and dusty attic, Elizabeth found Laura running her hand over the planked wood wall, while Sally, Eleanor and even Tenenbaum was looking through a porthole window, absolutely enrapture by the enraged colossuses.

"Whoa! Look at those things!" Sally chirped enthusiastically.

"Mein gott…" Tenenbaum was in awe. "A living, breathing prehistoric creature…here…oh such majesty…"

"They're so big," Eleanor spun to face the approaching Elizabeth. "Nice job!"

"You wouldn't say that if you saw them up closed," Elizabeth joins them, chuckling nervously. But watching the dinosaur from this distance, she had to admit there was a certain primal gracefulness to their stride.

"Did you lock the door?" Laura didn't turn around as she spoke.

"Yeah I locked the door," Tangmo replied, pulling up the trap door.

"Did the Raptors have feathers?"

"Nope."

"Ah, Jurassic Park then." Laura stepped back from the walls, got her guards up and gave the air a few quick jabs.

"Alright everybody stand back," She inhaled deeply and threw back her fist.

"Look out!" Sally screeched and bolted back from the window, dragging Tenenbaum with her, Elizabeth and Eleanor scrambling after them as the heavy footsteps suddenly picked up tempo, the quaking reverberation throwing everybody off their feet.

There was a thunderous crash, the building shuddered and tilted as the wall Laura was supposed to demolish exploded inward and collapsed in rolling cloud of bricks and woods, ramming gust battered their faces as a powerful roar rend the air asunder. Through the rushing smoke, Elizabeth could vaguely make out the black, rippling silhouette of a dorsal fin.

"What the fuck was that?!" Laura groggily got back on her feet, taking wobbly steps toward the empty space where the wall used to be, peering down the thirty feet drop.

"Thanks Spino," Tangmo came to stand next to her and waved.

"Well, that takes care of that," Laura gestured the rest over briskly. "Get moving."

Elizabeth went to the edge and stared down at the chasm left in the beast wake, mangled remains of furniture and building lay at the bottom where the townhouses had once been connected, jagged like rocks on a restless shore. Feeling a tingling vertigo, Elizabeth carefully took a step back and said:

"Why not just go back down to the garden? It's probably clear now."

"Because the Raptors you git," Laura rolled her eyes. "Are you going to jump or do I have to throw your skinny arse over?"

Huffing, Elizabeth simply opened a Tear and led Eleanor, Sally and Tenenbaum to the adjacent building. She snapped it shut and spun to give Laura a challenging glare, tinge with a tiny smirk.

Snickering, Laura and Tangmo sprinted toward the chasm and leapt across with ease. Elizabeth couldn't help but felt a tad envious of the graceful, almost ballerina like display of the fiery Brit who landed with a roll and, using the momentum, propelled herself toward the wall at the far end, fist raised.

"Wait a minute, how many houses are there?" Tangmo said as Laura punched through the first wall, creating a sizable portal.

"Umm, I really don't know," Eleanor shook her head.

"Shit! Hey Wonder Woman, slow down!" Tangmo rushed after his friend.

"I wouldn't mind seeing her tumbling off a building," Elizabeth said darkly as she followed Sally and Tenenbaum through the attic.

"I know what you mean," Eleanor grinned. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay, given the circumstances, thanks," Elizabeth gave a weary smile. "And you?"

"I'm fine," Eleanor sighed. "I kinda expected this to happen anyway."

"Huh?"

"I knew my mother would get out sooner or later, guess I underestimated how far she was willing to go to get back at me. I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this, if you hadn't stay with me you wouldn't have been caught in the crossfire"

"Eleanor stop it," Elizabeth said sternly, laying a firm hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "This is not your fault. Never think for a second that this is your fault."

"But…"

"If I didn't take up your offer, they'll come after me regardless. People like Sofia and Comstock will never rest until they get what they want, even if it means setting the world on fire. I'm just glad that I have a friend to brave the storm with me."

"Thanks Elizabeth," Eleanor brightened.

"We'll get through to this."

"I'm sure we will."

A short, high pitched squeal broke the monotony of splintering bricks, Tangmo panicky yelp and curses answered the distress as his thumping boots picked up speed. Trading each other a look, Elizabeth and Eleanor quickened their pace, running through the near empty attic and ducking under destroyed wall until they came to a threshold lit bright by the outside sun.

"Pull me up!" Laura screeched, dangling from the hole of her own making, Tangmo and Sally each grabbing hold of her arms.

"I'm trying!" Sally strained with effort.

"Goddamn you're heavy," Tangmo gritted his teeth and began pulling.

"It's the armor you fucking wanker!" Laura bellowed.

"Need a hand?" Eleanor waved Sally away as she reached down and took Laura arms, with Tangmo help they pulled her up on the floor.

"Thanks," Laura sprang to her feet. "Where next?"

"Over there," Eleanor pointed toward an alley across the road. "It'll keep us out of sight and it's the quickest shortcut to the hotel."

"Gotcha," Laura nodded. "Keep watch up here Tangmo."

"Alright," Tangmo got into a crouch and shouldered his rifle, scanning the street like a hawk as Eleanor led them down the stair. Soon they were out in the street, gunfire rattled in the distant to the tempo of monstrous footfall.

Glancing up, Elizabeth saw Tangmo climbing down the building, scaling the protruding bricks and ledges with breathtaking athleticism, hands and feet working in blinding unison as he landed fluidly in front of them.

"Nice," Eleanor said, looking mightily impressed as Tangmo tipped his cap with a smug grin.

"Um, hello?" Laura groaned.

"Oh right! Follow me," Eleanor dashed into the alley.

"Slower this time dear, some of us can't keep up," Tenenbaum called after Eleanor, who skid to a stop halfway into the dim corridor.

"Right, I forgot," Eleanor smiled sheepishly and waited until the other caught up. "I guess if we stay quiet, we can get to the hotel without breaking much of a sweat."

"I like that idea," Sally agreed, falling in line with the other at a more temperate pace.

Minutes stretches on as they traversed the shaded path, the tall building providing a much needed relief from the burning sun. All was strangely quiet, within the flanking walls the world seem muted to an indescribable hum, faraway and ghostly, not single denizen of Rapture or Columbia in sight as they continued deeper into the twisting warren. Elizabeth cracked a little smile, its good not to be dodging bullets for a change.

"Hey, I don't want to sound cliché or anything," Tangmo was abhorrently loud in the near silence. "But it's too quiet, like those moments before shits about to go down."

"Yeah," Laura grip tightened on her whip. "We're walking right into a pretty nasty jump scare for sure."

Elizabeth was about to retort the chaperons sudden spurt of paranoia when a mewling whimper caught her ears, a breezy whisper that became more pronounced as the melody grew in mournful timbre. First came the sniff, then the quick gasp, then the heart wrenching cry.

Without thought, Elizabeth ran toward the rising wail, Eleanor, Sally and Tenenbaum close at her heels, all sharing the same determination to find where the baleful sob had emanated.

"Oh come on! Don't run toward the creepy ghost child voice! Fuck!" Elizabeth ignored Tangmo and turn sharply at a corner, finding a boxed in cul-de-sac strewed with rubbish, broad stroke of blood swathed over the cobbled ground. And huddled at the far wall was the fetal, rocking form of a Little Sister, her flowery white gown covered in blood.

Noticing the four newcomers, the Little Sister gave a frightened squeak and pressed herself feebly up against the dirty wall, hand raised in shaky pleading.

"Please! Don't hurt me! Please!" She cried, tear streaming from her quivering, bulging eyes.

"No, no, no, don't be afraid," Elizabeth crooned sweetly. "You're safe now, we're not going to hurt you."

Trembling, the Little Sister slowly lowered her hands, hesitant and more than afraid despite Elizabeth comforting words.

"We're here to help," Eleanor now said, conjuring a brave smile for the Little Sister. "We'll keep you safe from the bad men."

"They cut me," the Little Sister wept and gestured to the bloody skirt covering her knees. "They cut me bad and now I can't stand. I can't feel anything."

Elizabeth felt sick now that she saw the Little Sister battered form. Her lower body was drenched in red and her face was adorned with black bruises around the cheek, chin and eye, every minute movement eliciting gasp of pain.

"Oh, you poor thing," Elizabeth held back tear as she crouched and reached out her hands. "You're safe now, we're not going to let anything bad happen to you."

Sobbing stifled, the Little Sister look at her with guarded hopefulness, gleaming innocence shone bright in her eyes, searching Elizabeth very soul for any hint of antagonism. After a minute, the Little Sister lowered her upper body to the ground and crawled toward her, one arm limp and the other reaching pitifully for her.

Their fingers were inches away from touching when Elizabeth was yanked viciously backward, rough fingers coiled tight around the collar of her blouse, the fabric biting into her neck. Elizabeth collided hard into Laura armored torso and before she could even react the woman's arm was wrapped around her neck, not tight enough to strangle but firm enough to keep her in place.

"Let me go!" Elizabeth kicked and screamed as Eleanor spun to face Laura, plasmid flaring. "Get off me!"

"That's not arterial blood," Laura said.

"Let go!" Elizabeth fingers scrapped across the hard metal shell.

"Listen to me!" Laura shouted and shook her hard enough to stop the squirming. "Those blood on her skirt was smeared, not splattered."

"She's right," now it was Tenenbaum who spoke, walking into view with Tangmo at her side, his rifle trained on the fallen Little Sister.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?!" Eleanor demanded, head darting frantically between the doctor and the girl.

"Those are not her blood," Tenenbaum continued steadily. "And if I recall, the Little Sister have enhanced healing metabolism. The girl is lying, she should be able to walk."

Laura loosened her hold and let Elizabeth staggered clumsily forward. Coughing and rubbing her neck, Elizabeth gasped when she caught sight of the downed Little Sister. The girl was no longer crying, her weepy visage morphing into one of anger, brow furrowing as she glared at the assemble crowd. Grumbling, she swiftly got to her feet, wiping furiously at her skirt and face. It was then that Elizabeth noticed the jagged piece of glass clenched in her supposedly injured hand, reflecting small gleams of light.

"Spoil sports!" She gave the ground a good stomp and blew them all raspberry.

"Run back to the Big Daddies," Laura growled and gave her whip a good crack. "Go!"

The Little Sister giggle was haunting, teetering between innocence and malice, the shard of glass leering at them.

"Silly lady!" She said sweetly. "We don't need Mr. Bubble to play with you!"

"We?" Elizabeth stammered as the Little Sister skipped toward them with a gleeful hum, her eyes bleeding hellish red, shinning bright like the porthole of an enraged Big Daddy.

"Okay stand back, time for some Thai parenting," Tangmo shouldered pass Tenenbaum and approached the Little Sister, her singing ceased as she gave the oriental a threatening growl, the palpable intensity did little to deter him.

In a blur the Little Sister launched herself at Tangmo, the speed and force rivaling that of a full grown splicer, her feral scream echoed across the cul-de-sac.

Tangmo was thrown backward by the impact, his rifle clattered to the ground as he staggered drunkenly for footing, cursing furiously as the Little Sister latched on to his head, glass shard diving downward in frenzied strokes.

After a moment of struggle Tangmo's hand lashed out and intercepted the Little Sister stabbing arm, the glass still pristine despite the girl ferocious effort. There was a loud bony snap and the shard fell from the Little Sister grasp with a yelp. Grabbing a fistful of her tunic, Tangmo hurled the Little Sister across the cobbled yard like a ragdoll, her tiny body bounced and flailed off the ground before skidding to a stop about ten feet away.

"Motherfucker!" Tangmo ran his hands down the side of his neck and heaved a sigh when it came back clean, despite the high collar of his coat looks like it's been mauled by a pack of dogs. He glowered darkly at the Little Sister, who returned the glare with equal hateful passion as she grabbed her broken wrist and twist it back into place, giving it a few rolls to check the limb function.

"You big dumb meanie!" She shrieked, teeth bared.

"Nap time bitch!" Tangmo whipped out his huge sidearm.

"Nein! Do not hurt her!" Tenenbaum trained her pistol on him.

"Yo! Chill! I'm just gonna clock her in the head – Look out!"

Elizabeth spun at Tangmo frantic pointing and came face to face with a knife wielding Little Sister. The red eyed girl lunge at her, tearing a nasty gash down the length of her skirt. Luckily, the knife didn't drew blood.

"Oh, this one's fast!" the girl cackled madly and stride forward only to slipped and fall face first on the suddenly frozen ground, ice rising to lock her limb in place, Eleanor's Winter Blast plasmid at work. She struggled vainly to free herself.

Another Little Sister emerged from the corridor they just came, striking for Tenenbaum with a pair of blood stained scissor.

"Brigid!" Eleanor froze the Little Sister in place with a burst of ice.

"Cheater!" She screamed indignantly, stabbing furiously at the crystalline case covering her ankles.

Pattering of feet alerted Elizabeth to another Little Sister, this one wielding an ADAM extracting syringe and charging straight for Laura.

She thrust the sharpened needle at the Brit's knee, there was cringing scrape then a metallic snap as the tip shattered against the blackened armor greave. Laura raised an annoyed brow and the Little Sister resumed her assault, tossing away the medical apparatus and slamming her tiny fists at the immovable leg.

"Okay, I'll admit this is kinda cute," Laura snickered, watching with open amusement as the Little Sister tried mightily to dislodge her, red eyes flaring brighter with increase exertion, obviously irked by the tame reaction. When her petite hands failed to dissuade Laura, the Little Sister proceeds to bite the offending limb, gnawing angrily at the protected calf and shin, snarling spittle flew from enraged maw.

"And now I'm annoyed," Laura frowned, shaking her leg but the Little Sister refused to budge. "Seriously you little prick, get off, you're gonna leave a stain."

The Little Sister just snarled and continues to chew like a puppy with a fresh set of teeth, splattering trails of saliva on the ebon surface. Muttering a slew of curses, Laura reached down and yanked the Little Sister off her feet, pulling the enraged girl up by the seam of her dress so that their eyes met.

"Let me go you ugly hag!" The Little Sister spat, trying to wiggle herself free.

"See, that's the kind of talking that gets your arse kick," Laura free hand suddenly shot up and cupped the side of her neck, tracing over the skin around the collarbone.

"No! Laura don't!" Elizabeth's yell went unheeded as the Little Sister suddenly went limp, her ferocity snuffed out like a candle, drool running down the side of her folded head, a very loud snore parting her stilled lips. She didn't even wake up when Laura dropped her roughly on her head.

"Pressure points," Laura raised her hand innocently. "There's the Kenshiro way and the Vulcan way. Oh, don't look so shock, she just sleeping like a wee baby."

A cry rented the air and all eyes turned to see the first Little Sister charging at Tangmo, the oriental had holstered his pistol but the girl had pried a piece of stone from the ground, brandishing it with murderous intent.

"STOP!" Tangmo shouted, waving hand held out toward the Little Sister, who stopped out of sheer bafflement in the face of such unorthodoxy. Inhaling deeply, Tangmo got into a strange crab like stance and spun his torso to the side with both arms outstretched. Before the Little Sister could overcome her confusion Tangmo suddenly jump, body spinning mid-air as his leg lashed out and struck the girl on the side of her head with an audible smack.

She collapsed to the ground, groaning feebly as Tangmo quickly rose to his feet, the kick resulted in him landing on his stomach, staring with amused satisfaction at the Little Sister sprawled form.

Laura dropped to one knee with a violent laughing fit, body contorted by back breaking hysteria.

"Holy shit! You just Kenny Omega that little bitch!" Laura gasped between chortling fit.

"The Cleaner will be please! Bullet Club for life!" Tangmo smiled, breathing heavily and looming over the fallen Little Sister like a lion circling its prey.

"Damn, now I wish I'd chokeslam the Little Sister," Laura turned, still snickering, to see a very unamused Elizabeth and Eleanor.

"What?"

"That was uncalled for," Eleanor said through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me? They were trying to kill us," Laura looked almost offended.

"It is never right to hurt a child," now Elizabeth gave admonition.

"And freezing them to the ground is so much more humane," Laura pointed at the still struggling girls on the cobblestone, the ice was already melting and soon they would be free. Eleanor flinched and bashfully hid her hands, scarlet shamed her cheeks.

"That's different!" Elizabeth spoke up in her defense.

"Whatever, at least we didn't splattered their brain and drank their worm juice," Laura then pointed a warning finger at the remorseful looking Tangmo meekly approaching Elizabeth. "And don't you fucking dare apologize!"

"Umm…guys?" Sally quivering voice alerted them to a large crowd now entering the cul-de-sac. The alley mouth they had entered was now barred by an army of Little Sister, their shining red eyes blazed intensely, washing over them like simmering haze of fire.

"Well fuck," Tangmo picked up his fallen rifle.

"Don't you dare…" Tenenbaum warned him.

"I'm not going to shoot them, God!" Tangmo glance around the area. "But to be honest, the notion is tempting as hell."

Only now did Elizabeth realized that more glowing red orbs were peering from the windows far to their rights, blinking and blistering with unhidden hunger like crimson stars, too numerous to count.

"This is like Pet Sematary meet Children of the fucking Corn," Laura unfurled her whip as more Little Sisters poured into the small open plaza, calm and slow, eyeing them dangerously.

"Move ladies!" Tangmo shouted and bolted for the building on the left, blessedly free of hovering eyes, and rammed his entire body into the door, the frame swung inward to the twinkling of shattered lock.

"Inside, now!" Laura's whip lashed out in a wide, cracking arc just as the horde of Little Sister began surging forward, the shrieking barb deterring their nipping advance as the four dashes inside the building.

"Laura come on man!" Tangmo yelled as Laura twirled on the tip of her toe and sprinted toward the open door, the Little Sisters pouring after her like a devouring tide. As she leapt into the building, Tangmo tossed what appeared to be a primed grenade at the oncoming mob of little girls before slamming the door shut. An ungodly loud explosion boomed a second later, followed by an outpouring high pitched scream.

"What did you…!" Eleanor shot him an angry look.

"Flashbang!" Tangmo said hurriedly. "That should daze them long enough for us to…"

With a sudden turn of the knob, the door bulge inward and would have flew open if Laura didn't pressed her back against the yielding frame. The Little Sisters whined and shrieked as they threw their collective mass at the door, their tiny bodies colliding with surprising force, every thud felt like a hammer blow.

"Fuck! We need an old priest and a young priest for this bullshit!" Laura yelled, defiant as sharp objects and groping hands began poking through the widening crevice between the frames and under the door.

"The power of Christ compels you!" Tangmo kicked the door closed, squeaks sounded as careless fingers and arms were flattened. He turned back to Elizabeth as he join Laura in bracing the door. "We'll hold them back, go!"

Nodding, Elizabeth ran down the dark corridor until she found the front door. Not bothering to check her surrounding, she led the other on to the bright street, and as her vision adjusted Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at the tall building with a bright red tile roof standing before them.

The hotel was just a dash away, so close that she could almost touch it.

"Come on! Let's go!" Elizabeth led them across the empty street, but was stop when bullets cascaded across their feet in brilliant sparks of lead and tarmac. Whipping out her gun, Elizabeth aimed at the approaching squad of Founder, fifteen in all, their weapons trained on them. Beside her Eleanor flared her plasmid and Tenenbaum pointed her sidearm at the armed men and women, Sally slinking behind the older woman.

"Drop your weapon!" A gruff, bear like man demanded and Elizabeth quickly recognized his voice. Magnus, the man that had been conversing with Daisy.

"Not a chance," Elizabeth snarled, gun still pointing at the man.

Magnus just scoffed. "They say to bring you in, they didn't say anything about the condition of the package."

With a nod, his men stepped forward, cocked their guns and aimed low. Elizabeth eyes widened and Magnus grinned triumphantly, there was little doubt of his intention.

"Last chance missy," Magnus sneered. "Drop the guns or things will get a tad messy for the four of you."

Not wanting harm to befell Sally and Tenenbaum, and lacking any option beyond that of getting shot, Elizabeth slowly lowered her gun, nodding curtly to Eleanor who reluctantly comply. It was then that she saw a Tear, a very small one glowing at Magnus feet. The man seemed oblivious to its existence, something of a reoccurring trait amongst the men and women of Rapture and Columbia, but she can't risk alerting its presence to him. Besides, she doubted something that small could truly be of any use.

"Now be nice little girls and come with us," Magnus waved them over.

"How about no, you fucking yank bastard?" Elizabeth couldn't believed that she would be glad to hear Laura vulgar tirade, but in that moment she felt a rush of relief as the Brit stride purposefully toward the Founders, a flamethrower of some kind trained on them. Tangmo lingered back a few steps behind her, casting warily glance at the weapon.

As the Founder scrambled to face the new threat, Elizabeth reached toward the Tear and pulled…and felt nothing but crushing disappointment at what the quantum anomaly had produced.

It was…a rabbit.

A white fluffy rabbit hopping and nipping at the Founders boot, unaware of the danger it was in, an innocent dancing upon the edge of death and taunting the reaper with its googly eye naivety. Guns lowered, the soldiers of Columbia regarded the small creature for a moment then burst out laughing.

Elizabeth herself feeling more than embarrassed by the pitiful display.

"Ha! Is this the best you can come up with?" Magus bellowed as the bunny rabbit hopped around in confusion, eyeing the ring of people nervously.

"Run!" Laura rushed up to Elizabeth, grabbing her roughly by the shoulder. "That thing is a killer! Run!"

The Founders only laughed harder at the absurd insinuation and Elizabeth herself began to wonder if Laura was finally cracking under the pressure of her job.

"She's right," Tangmo came up to stand beside her, more collected but as equally anxious. "That thing has a vicious streak a mile long."

"A monster? This thing? Ha! Guess I'll have to slay the beast then! One rabbit stew coming right up!" Magnus walked up to the rabbit and arced back his leg.

Elizabeth had expected to see the innocent creature being kicked clear across the street. What she didn't expect however, was the bunny suddenly shooting off the ground like a rocket at Magnus's throat. He let out a horrid gurgling choke as the rabbit bit his head clean off in a matter of seconds.

The Founder screamed and bullet flies, the lucky ones went down in the blind salvo meant for the rabbit. The fluffy creature descended on them in a bloody frenzy, biting into the screaming squad with dole eye fury, tiny teeth digging deep ravine of gushing blood into torso and neck.

"Well don't just stand there, run!" Laura quickly urged them on, Elizabeth complying without question.

"Follow me!" Eleanor now took the lead and led them toward the hotel, the Founders agonizing cry ended just as abruptly as the bunny attack.

"What the hell was that thing?!" Sally asked when they entered another alley.

"The rabbit of Caerbannog," Laura said. "Nasty little bugger that, pretty much un-killable."

A muffled explosion rumbled from the direction they'd just came, tinged with faint girly cries.

"What has happened to the Little Sisters?" Tenenbaum turned an accusatory glance at Tangmo. "What have you done to them?"

"Jeez doc, I didn't hurt them alright?" Tangmo retorted. "We barred the door as best we can then rigged the place with smoke grenades filled with a very strong repellant that should, very surely, dissuade them from following us."

"So they are not harmed in anyway?" Tenenbaum pressed on, the sprint slowing to a jog.

"There will be extreme discomfort, I admit, but nothing that a bath wouldn't fix. Would you stop looking at me like that?"

"Well you did gave one of them a mother of all enzuigiri, so I don't blame her for being a bit touchy," Laura said. "What was in that smoke stuff anyway?"

Tangmo hesitated for a moment then said, "Brian Fantana's Sex Panther cologne."

"Jesus, why not just send them to the fucking gas chamber?" Laura flinched when Tenenbaum shot her a look of pure anger. "Sorry, I forgot you worked there."

"Do I even want to know about this…Sex Panther?" Eleanor face scrunched in revulsion.

"I can get very colorful with the description but let's just say it's pretty bad," Tangmo shrugged.

"Damien made this didn't he?" Laura asked.

"Of course, there's no way Lita would be this batshit disgusting."

Laura snickered then gazed up at the red roof building before them, "this is it then."

"Yes, Hotel Somerville," Elizabeth came to stand by her side, a guarded smile creeping up her lips now that they finally reached their destination. The chaperons on the other hand appeared agitated, sharpened eyes swept across the landscape, tensed with apprehension.

"Get inside, quickly," Laura less the gently nudged Elizabeth toward the backdoor.

"What is your problem? The doors right there!" Eleanor protested as Tangmo herded her, Sally and Tenenbaum toward the entrance with pushy civility.

"There's always a chance of tripping at the finish line," Tangmo said. "It happened before and I seriously don't want to deal with that crap again."

With unnecessary haste the four were pushed into a dim corridor lit by a flickering bulb. Besides the eerily lighting the place seems to be in a pristine condition, no dust or debris anywhere. Tangmo and Laura followed them inside after one final sweep, shutting and locking the door quickly. They stared at each other for a moment before smiling, raised their fists and playfully bump each other knuckles.

"We made it!" Tangmo said, holstering and slinging his guns. "Mission accomplished, checkpoint reached, autosave in progress don't turn off your PC."

"Where are the twins?" Laura question was answered by a clear, but off key note of a piano coming from the hall beyond, punctured by two very prim voices locked in a quick banter. Smiling, Elizabeth led the way toward the hotel reception area. Like the corridor it was spotless, untouched by the calamity raging outside, brightly lit by a grand chandelier hanging high from the ceiling and the tall windows that granted an impressive view outside. Swallowing her nervousness, Elizabeth gingerly approached the glass pane and watched as the horde of Rapture and Columbia strolled pass the building, paying it no heed.

"Give them a little wave dear," Rosalind said loudly, the female Lutece was standing beside a large piano currently occupied by Robert, who was tuning the instrument.

"They can't see us," Eleanor observed.

"A little quantum illusion of my own making," Rosalind continued, looking rather pleased with herself. "They are blinded to this hotel existence."

"Very nice," Tangmo nodded, impressed.

"And now, since we're going to be here a while," Robert spoke, his fingers striking up quick melody that was both fiery and serene, before calming to a slow, almost melancholic tempo. "Please be seated and make yourself comfortable."


	12. Fractured Respite

"Can you play something else? Good God man!" Tangmo spun in his armchair, giving Robert a most incredulous look to which the male Lutece respond with an easy raise of a brow.

"Are you finding my rendition not to your liking?" Robert said as he continues to play Will the Circle be Unbroken, the solemn hymn articulated with melodic precision, every note crisp, clear and pleasant to the ears. Eleanor, however, can't help but feel that it sounded somewhat…mechanical. It was as if the Lutece approached music like one of their equations, cold and passionless, the composition perfect yet lacking the soul that many musicians strove to create.

However, she knew that wasn't why Tangmo had objected to this particular piece.

Beside her Elizabeth slink deeper into the leather couch, her frame rigid with discomfort, the song disagreeing so greatly that she appeared physically ill. Eleanor remembered vividly how she had to escort the brunette, shuddering on the brink of tears, out of the church when the choirboys began singing the song during last year Christmas mass.

Eleanor had attempted to broach the subject several times but Elizabeth had recoiled from the inquiry and begged her not to pursue the delicate matter. So she relented, knowing that some memories were too painful to recollect and shared.

"Hey," Eleanor reached over and grabbed Elizabeth's hand. "It's alright, I'm here."

"I'm fine, really," Elizabeth shaky smile did little to inspire confidence, Eleanor could tell that she wanted nothing more than the somber music to end.

"Not a fan of Christian folk song I see," Robert commented as he struck up the next verse, oblivious to Elizabeth rising distress.

"The damn song is bloody depressing mate," Laura voiced her discontent.

"I personally found the piece to inspire a certain hopefulness," Robert retorted. "It is a testament of how faith can be a soothing remedy against the crushing weight of the world, a shining promise of reunification that, for many, helps them through their darkest hour. Everybody wants a happy ending, and many would be more than satisfied knowing one awaits them in the afterlife."

"The song is literally about some old bloke wanting to die so he can meet his dead relatives again," Laura said. "If death is your only path to any semblance of happiness then you seriously need to see a shrink mate, because that is a life wasted to an unreachable, nonexistence intangibility."

"Well, I believe it is all up to perspective," Robert shrugged.

"Change the song now or we start singing," Tangmo gave his ultimatum while Laura began harmonizing a few notes. Eleanor was surprised by how melodious the Englishwoman sounded when she wasn't cursing. Even Elizabeth took noticed of the impressive vocalization.

"That would be rather interesting indeed," Rosalind words attracted immediate ire from Robert who stopped playing, a faintest hint of annoyance creased his prim visage.

"Very well," Robert said and began new piece. It took Sally frightened squeak for Eleanor to recognize the old timey tune of La Vie en Rose. Wasn't he and his sister omniscient? Did they not know the emotional gravity this particular song held for Elizabeth and Sally?

"I don't like this song…" Sally said meekly as she scooted closer to Brigid.

Elizabeth spun and gave Robert a look of abject indignation, a perfect cross between outrage and disbelief.

"Change the song," Elizabeth articulated each word with seething force. "Now."

"If that is your wish," Robert was minutely peeved as he raised his hand and brought the French song to an abrupt end. After a moment of contemplation, he delicately lowered his fingers on the ivory keys and kicked up a new beat.

It was Beyond the Sea.

Now it was Eleanor, and apparently Brigid, who took offense to the gross choice of music. She of course didn't have any psychological trauma linked to the song, but having to hear the melody on constant repeat in Rapture sure wasn't bringing back any darling memories.

"I don't mind this, Bobby Darrin is absolute boss," Tangmo nodded his approval.

"Agreed, pretty much the only thing good about Finding Nemo," Laura gave her unrelated input.

"Be that as it may," Brigid spoke up. "As someone who had to endure the madness that was Rapture, I have come to find the song rather…distasteful."

"You and me both," Eleanor concurred grumpily.

The music dies and Robert turned to face his very unreceptive audience.

"Then I suppose there is no pleasing you, is there?" He huffed rather testily, an endearing sight that had Eleanor stifling a grin.

"Now, now dear brother, no need to be upset," Rosalind gave Robert a dainty a wave and replaced him at the piano. "Perhaps I will be more successful in soothing the atmosphere."

"This should be good," Tangmo snickered as Rosalind weaved a pleasant melody that Eleanor didn't recognized. It was soft, calming and strangely hopeful to hear, banishing the oppressive gloom and doom.

With a happy sort of disbelief, Tangmo and Laura sprung up from their seat, mouths hanging open as they gaped at Rosalind. Then they smiled, bright and childlike, the gushing happiness was a shocking contrast to their usual grim and snide demeanor.

"I salute your infinite good taste, madam Lutece," Tangmo gave a mock bow before seating himself down, unable to contain his joy.

" _Yondeiru Mune no Dokoka Okude, Itsumo Kokoro Odoru Yume wo Mitai,_ " Laura began singing, her voice chiming like silver bells.

"She's really good," Eleanor leaned close to Elizabeth, hushed with awe.

"I guess," Elizabeth said absently, trying her best not to appear impressed in the slightest, but the held breath and unblinking gaze betrays her true bearing on the matter.

"Aw, don't be jealous," Eleanor grinned and elbowed Elizabeth friendlily in the side.

"I'm not!" Elizabeth pouted hard.

"Holy crap, who would have thought the Lutece knew about Ghibli," Tangmo raised his legs and rest it on the coffee table.

"I know right?" Laura had stopped singing and was slouching contently in her cushioned seat. "Not really something you would expect them to take notice."

"So…do we just wait now?" Sally asked.

"That's the idea," Tangmo took off his cap and hung it at the end of the armrest. "Unless of course, you rather be out there getting chased by mutants and heretics. Me? I'm just gonna sit here and chill."

"I like the chill idea," Sally nodded in agreement.

"Doc, what the hell was up with those Little Sisters?" Laura turned to Brigid. "I don't remember you designing them to go around murdering people like that."

"Of course I didn't!" Brigid said hotly. "They were condition to be gatherers, not predators. I…don't know what has happened to them…perhaps Sofia got a hold of my research and altered their established conditioning somehow. She deals with the mind after all, it does not seem out of the realm of possibility for her to accomplish such a feat."

"Not to mention she probably have other variations of Suchong to help her out too," Tangmo gave his input.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because Rapture was already dying when Eleanor came up," he continued. "Don't give me that look, we did our research. Judging by the insane amount of muscles Sofia had amassed and the presence of Columbian grunts working in tandem with them, Comstock's been sharing his trans-dimensional technology with her."

"It wouldn't matter in the end," Laura yawned. "Once we get you lots out of here we'll mop up their pathetic little army before they can even recover from the massive arse beating we've just gave them."

"Exactly," Tangmo agreed. "That is of course, if nothing earth shattering happens then we should probably be fine."

"I think you just jinxed that."

"…Fuck."

"What will happen to us when all of this is over?" Eleanor asked, the respite had unfortunately allowed her a moment of introspection into the bleak prospect awaiting her and Elizabeth.

Their livelihood has been destroyed.

The first place they could truly call home ravaged by a past that refuses to die.

Where can they go? Can mother and Comstock truly be stopped? What if they can't? Are they doomed to be vagabonds, forever on the run like common fugitives with peace ever so elusive?

"Move to a new town, start a new life," Laura answered dismissively.

"What if you two fail?" Eleanor said. "Then what? Do we spend the rest of our lives running from mother? Find some place to stay for a while and let it burn down like this one?"

"We won't fail!" Laura shot back intensely. "Have a little faith in us why don't you?"

"I'm sorry I just…" Eleanor stuttered an apology but Tangmo cut her off.

"We understand things look bad right now and you have every right to assume the worst. Hell, I'm not exactly what you call an optimist but if there's one thing I learn before renouncing Buddhism, it's this: Only the present matters. The past and future are distraction. All you can do is make the best out of this moment, regardless of how shitty it might be."

Eleanor nodded slowly, letting the eastern wisdom soothe her troubled thoughts.

"So just chill dude, there's no point in worrying."

"I'll try my best," Eleanor sighed and was surprised to find her lips curving into an easy smile. "Thanks"

"Don't mention it," Tangmo said.

A silent interlude came over the group them, a pleasant calm that eased tired muscles and minds, made even more amiable by Rosalind masterful tune.

"What's the name of the song?" Elizabeth asked, her head swaying softly to the tempo.

"Itsumo Nando Demo," Laura answered. "Always With Me in English."

"It's very nice," Elizabeth looked almost sad when the song ended and Rosalind quickly striking up a new melody. The sweet serenade of Fly Me to the Moon quickly filled the hall, another contraband in Rapture. Apparently a song about the moon proved a security threat to Ryan undersea empire.

"You guys talk funny," Sally spoke up, eyeing the two chaperons curiously. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"I think the better question is when," Elizabeth flashed her knowing smirk. "Those gears you carry look too advance to be anything from this era."

"A rather redundant observation," Laura was being her usual grouchy self.

"So when exactly are you from?"

"2015," Tangmo answered.

"2015?!" Eleanor bolted upright with beaming eagerness, excited to be face to face with real life time travelers. Well, Elizabeth was technically a time traveler also but she was from the past.

"So what's the future like?" Eleanor pressed on but settled down bashfully when Elizabeth began sniggering.

"Pretty cool, I guess," Tangmo said with a goofy grin. "We got awesome stuff like PC, the internet and smart phone, things that totally make our lives a lot more kickass."

"PC?" Sally tilted her head like a curious puppy.

"The…internet?" Elizabeth rolled the unfamiliar word around her tongue.

"What's a smart phone?" Eleanor perked up, leaning forward intently.

Tangmo held up his wrist device and tapped the mirror shined screen, rows of small illuminated pictures appeared suddenly to replace her reflection, shining in bright cheerful spectrum. He traced his finger over the screen then gave a gentle nudge on an icon that looked like a camera. Eleanor yelped in surprise when her face now dominated the entirety of the device, Elizabeth and Sally leaned in closer until all three of them were confined within the strange instrument's black frame.

There was a click like that of a photograph shutter and their likeness froze for a second before normal motion return.

"What happened?" Eleanor blinked and waved at the screen.

"I just took your picture," Tangmo swiped away the moving image and replaced it with a static one. Eleanor was stunned by the crisp quality of the photography, but quickly became mortified when she saw how ghastly she looked, soot and muck stained her face and tattered attire. It was definitely not her most photogenic moment.

Snatching a clean sheet from the coffee table Eleanor wiped her face furiously, further highlighting the red blush rising on her cheeks. Elizabeth and Sally following suit with equal vigor.

"You could have warned us!" Elizabeth eyed him crossly.

"Yeah Tangmo don't be a freaking pervert," Laura smiled venomously, to which Tangmo retort with a middle finger.

"If you don't like the picture I can delete it," the Asian went on smoothly.

"That would be ideal, but can you hold the screen up again please?" Eleanor made some final adjustment before giving Tangmo a nod, satisfied that she now look half way presentable.

"Thank you," she smiled as Tangmo tapped the screen in quick succession.

"And done," Tangmo announced and held the neon display up to them again. "This is a personal computer, a PC, a device that let you access a near limitless repository of knowledge from all over the world with just a simple tap of a finger. It also does a lot of cool stuff like this…"

Eleanor found herself captivated as Tangmo went into detail about the device's many properties. Having always possessed a curious mind, much to the irritation of mother, Eleanor would indulge herself with new and dangerous ideas that were forbidden to her.

After finally surfacing from Rapture she was thrilled, and a bit overwhelmed, to learn how vast the world truly was, the implanted memories and knowledge paling to the ever expanding horizon of discovery. Although far from being an optimist, Eleanor had always maintained a hopeful spirit and was ever ready to greet each day with bright enthusiasm.

"Such power wielded by so many could potentially lead to a rather…hectic scenario," Brigid gave her cautious input, not one to be readily trusting of any new scientific breakthroughs no matter how plausible the flowery promises may sound. Eleanor didn't blame her, after the rise and fall of Rapture that was engineered by her own hands, if anyone alive would know the danger of innovation, it would be Brigid.

That didn't stop Elizabeth from casting her a dirty look though, the brunette more than ready to fault Brigid for every little trifle. She deftly ignored Eleanor stern look and made it plain for everyone to see that she wasn't pleased with the doctor's assessment.

"I am not saying that I dislike the device, Elizabeth," Brigid caught her peevish glance. "On the contrary, I am quite happy to know that Charles work would become the centerfold of the scientific community in the years to come."

"Yeah, about your boyfriend…" Laura began.

"He is not my boyfriend!" Brigid shot back, unusually defensive on the subject, the blooming blush on her face only adds to the abnormality.

"Housemates, bunk-buddies, whatever," Laura rolled her eyes. "My point is, can you tell him not to go too crazy with his research? I don't want to come back here when everything went Skynet."

"As I have already told young Elizabeth, Charles works are in the very preliminary stages, there is nothing to fear."

"What's Skynet?" Sally asked.

"It's our umbrella terms for a doomsday scenario," Tangmo answered nonchalantly. "It's basically when artificial intelligence gain sentiency and try to wipe out the human race that created them, the ungrateful fucks."

"Sounds rather grim," Elizabeth now said. "Are the machines in your time showing signs of developing rebellious conscience?"

"No, of course not," Tangmo waved her off. "I mean it's a possibility, even Stephen freaking Hawking warned that it could happen if we're not careful, but it's going to be a long while before any of us need to worry. Beside if it does happen, and that's a big if, then it wouldn't be our problem. Let the future generations deal with it, all the games, books and films should prep them adequately enough."

"That sound very irresponsible, you should at least attempt to ease the burden of those that comes after you," Eleanor gave Tangmo a judgmental look.

"We have our own problem to deal with like global warming, terrorists and North Korea," Laura shrugged innocently. "Our hands are tied."

"I thought you said no more gloomy topic?" Eleanor raised a snarky brow.

"It's the medias fault for wrapping our fragile little mind with so much negativity," Laura made an exaggerated flaunt of distress.

"That's why you must believe in the power of positivity!" Tangmo chirped up. "So don't you dare be sad, don't you dare be sour, because New…!"

"If you start clapping I'm gonna fucking flay you!" Laura warned, the spasming whip suddenly in her hand, Brigid and Sally backing away fearfully from its barbed radius.

"At least they're better than Roman Reigns," Tangmo shot back and Eleanor had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

"Those smark bastards never gave him a chance!" Laura cried.

"Your taste in wrestling is abominable."

Cheeks puffed, Laura tossed the whip on the coffee table and crossed her arms angrily over her chests, "I do not! I like Asuka too."

"She um…reminds you of someone?" Tangmo and his obnoxious grin was send tumbling to ground by Laura swift kick, the armchair falling on top of him.

"Arsehole…" Laura cursed darkly and stalked toward the dazed Asian.

"Did people from your time made these?" Elizabeth eyed the unmoving whip warily. "Seems like an unusual choice of weapon where firearms dominate the battlefield."

"That thing was made by filthy xenos and used by closet heretics! Argh!" Tangmo blurting ended with a pitiful squawk when Laura placed the armchair over his fallen form and proceed to seat herself upon it, ignoring the boy flailing struggle.

"What my colleague is trying to say," Laura slammed her posterior on the leather seat, earning an angry grunt from Tangmo. "Is that this whip, the Agonizer, was not made by human hands."

"Then who made them?" Sally perked up brightly.

"Eldar," Laura said. "You've read the Lord of the Rings, right? Well these guys and gals are space Elves, and they live in gigantic spaceships that traverse the endless expanse of the Milky Way Galaxy, gleaming like the brightest stars on a cloudless sky."

"Elves in space?! That sounds magical!" Sally said dreamingly. Eleanor could never understand the girl obsession with the fantastical. Fairies and magic? Ridiculous.

"Lies! The Agonizer is a Dark Eldar weapon!" Tangmo voice boomed from the floor.

"Quiet you!" Laura jumped on him again.

"Dark Eldar? You mean evil elf?" Sally chirped enthusiastically.

"Yeah! They pillage, murder and rape people for fun like a bunch of coked up BDSM pirate straight out of the worst Japanese hentai porno you can think of!" Tangmo rather colorful description made Eleanor face brightened uncomfortably. "That Agonizer was taken from a Wych she killed in single combat."

"She was a formidable warrior, after a hard fought battle I took her weapon as a trophy. The whip has served me well ever since."

"And all of this happened in the future you came from?" Elizabeth appeared a little unsettled by the outlandish testimony.

"Heavens no! That's a completely different reality," Laura said.

"That's a relief," Elizabeth gave a wary laugh. "I just can't imagine how bad a world like that would be."

"Well, we've lived in a place like that before," Laura cracked a smile. "Forty thousand years into the future mankind rules the stars, fight all kinds of demonic monster across the galaxy and get brutally murdered in the most horrific way imaginable. Basically life sucks, there's only war and we're probably gonna get eaten by Tyranids."

"Can you let me up now please?" Tangmo prone form piped up.

"You promise to be a nice little boy?" Laura said sweetly.

"Fuck you."

"Close enough."

With that Laura went back to her own seat while Tangmo swiftly got back on his feet, dusted his coat and picked up the fallen cap before simply seating himself back down on the armchair as if nothing has happened.

"No hard feeling love?"

"We'll see."

"Well that just sound dreadful," Elizabeth grimaced.

"Meh, it's not as bad as it sound once you get used to it," Laura said. "That's why I got a little scared of your power. It could have pulled something from the 40k universe here, lucky nothing of the sort happened. Hell, I think everything that came through was rather compatible with this universe."

"I agree, but don't think too much into it Elizabeth, it'll be over soon," Tangmo flashed her a smile. "And everything will go back to normal…more or less."

"But how do you plan on fixing the breach in the quantum singularity?" Brigid now put forth her questions.

"He'll do it," Laura said cryptically.

"Who's he?" Eleanor brow rose.

"You'll know soon enough," Tangmo eyes glinted mischievously.

"I thought you like being honest?" Elizabeth said.

"I do," Tangmo held up his hands defensively. "But what's life without a little mystery? Besides, I want to see yours and his face when everything is revealed in its entirety."

"I don't like those kind of surprises," Elizabeth didn't sound too happy with the enigmatic prospect.

"Calm down, it not as bad as you think," Laura stretched lazily as Rosalind began a new song. To Eleanor surprise the melody sounded strangely…dark.

"Holy shit, are you kidding me right now?!" Tangmo gave his reaction just as Laura began singing.

" _How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?_ " Laura's voice was melodic and heavy with emotion, body arcing to the pouring concerto.

" _Leading me down into my core, where I become so numb. Without a soul, my spirit sleeping somewhere cold. Until you find it there and lead it back home…_ "

She then turn to Tangmo and asked, "are you doing the McCoy part?"

"Nah, all yours."

" _Wake me up inside. Wake me up inside. Call my name and save me from the dark. Bid my blood to run, before I come undone. Save me from the nothing I've become."_

As Laura began the second verse, Eleanor found herself enraptured by the performance; the intensity of the lyric was nothing like the bubbly and thoughtful prose of her time. It spoke vigorously of pain and longing, but even in its melancholic tone there still linger the defiant struggle, the gushing roar of life that refuse to capitulate.

And for the first time, Elizabeth seems truly impressed to find someone of equal vocal caliber, allowing herself to be moved by the haunting composition.

When the last note finally trailed off, Eleanor found herself joining Sally extremely enthusiastic clapping ovation, even Elizabeth was showing her appreciation, albeit more tame, as Laura rose and bowed, her head snapping down and up in a quick, almost violent motion, her hair streaking up into a fiery arch.

"Note to self," Tangmo began with a smirk. "The Lutece twins listen to really old rock songs."

"A very subjective term given our different places on the strand of time," Rosalind said. "For us, it is an astounding discovery in the field of future contemporary music, while for you it would probably seem out of date and, given your friend performance, revered for its antique quality."

"Well yeah, 2003 was a life time ago dude."

Both Tangmo and Laura laughed at that, but there mirth stuttered to a stop when Elizabeth suddenly rose from her seat and dusted her dirty and damaged garment.

"I'm going to get some drinks," she announced. "You guys want anything?"

After an affirmative no from the group Elizabeth strode away toward the bar beside the immobile Luteces, already playing another tune. Eleanor watched as Elizabeth ducked behind the polished oak counter, reappearing a few moments later with a rocks glass in hand, dark amber liquid sloshing inside. She took one sip and started back the way she came but steered away from the group, striding slowly toward a cluster of seats tucked in the far corner of the hall, lit bright by the windows beside it.

She took a seat in one of the high back chair, back turned to them, silent and unmoving. Eleanor worried glance never left her, seeing Elizabeth in a rather detached manner was never a good sign.

At first she thought the brunette may simply needed some space to herself after such a strenuous morning, but the longer Elizabeth remained, her only movement the lethargic rise of her arm, Eleanor grew more troubled, the excited conversation around her fuzzing to an indiscernible drone. She wanted to join her, but also knew that everyone deserve a little privacy once in a while.

A sharp tsk broke through her worries. Blinking, Eleanor turned back to the conversation, finding Brigid with a content smile as she watched Sally asking Laura about some place called the Shire. The tsk came again and she saw Tangmo looking straight at her, his visage aloof, head tilting quickly in Elizabeth direction.

"Go," his mouth moved to the single soundless utterance.

Nodding, Eleanor quickly got up from her seat, Tangmo giving her a parting thumps up as she made her way toward Elizabeth.

"Hey," Eleanor announced herself meekly.

"Oh, hi," Elizabeth spun and gave a weary smile.

"So…how're you doing?" Eleanor ventured carefully, not wanting to sound intrusive.

"A little tired but otherwise peachy," Elizabeth went on softly.

"Uh-huh…just wanting to make sure that everything's okay."

"You always do worry too much sometime."

"Can't help it I guess."

"I didn't say that it was a bad thing though."

A brief silence passed before Eleanor spoke again.

"I guess I'll leave you alone then."

"I…wouldn't mind your company though,"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Elizabeth waved to an empty chair beside her. "Please."

Feeling some of her worries mediated by Elizabeth request, Eleanor took a seat beside her, both their chairs angled in a way that they can face each other with a small turn of the head.

"It's not even noon," Eleanor gestured to the drink in Elizabeth hand. "Sure you're not going to get tipsy because of that?"

Elizabeth giggled, rolling the liquid around in her glass, "Its apple juice Eleanor."

"Really?" Seeing how less than convince she was, Elizabeth gave her the glass. With some hesitation, Eleanor pressed the crystal rim to her lips and tilted the drink into her mouth. It was indeed apple juice, a very warm and sour apple juice that scrapped her throat like a hundred knives.

"Oh my God!" Eleanor face scrunched up in disgust, coughing as she handed the rocks glass back to the smirking Elizabeth. "How could you drink that?"

"Slow, delicate sips," she smiled and proceeds to do just that.

"Yuck!" Eleanor exclaimed, hairs standing on end. "That was horrible!"

"That was nothing compared to warm Sarsaparilla," Elizabeth continued. "Back when I was escaping Columbia I unwittingly took a sip, I was very thirsty you see. It was so bad that I thought it was poison."

"I remember a similar incident with a can of cola when I was with Delta, I couldn't get the taste off my mouth for days."

"Seems we have a lot of that in common."

"Constants and variables, remember?"

"Now you're just being cheeky."

"I try my best."

They shared a little laugh then, reserved but with earnest gusto, enjoying this brief moment of normalcy in a world lost to insanity.

"It's good to see that you are still pretty spirited," Eleanor continued. "Truth be told I got a tad worried when you stalked off like that."

"Sorry," Elizabeth said. "It's just been so chaotic you know? I mean, we were all celebrating the Fourth of July then suddenly the next moment we're running for our lives."

"And to think that only this morning we were arguing over what I would wear for the day's outing," Eleanor cast a rueful glance down at her torn shirt. "They've probably been by our house already, and knowing how the splicers behave, the place's probably destroyed by now."

Elizabeth took a joyless sip. "Everything we own…such a shame."

"It's nothing that can't be replaced."

"I know but still, I really like some of those dress."

"Do you think there will ever be an end to this?" Eleanor drew her knees up to her chest. "Of Rapture and Columbia I mean."

"I don't know," Elizabeth turned to look at Tangmo and Laura. "I really hope those two can deliver on their promises and bury this nightmare for good."

"They're doing a pretty good job so far."

"I agree, it actually makes me hopeful that they would do what needed to be done in the end."

The rather harsh tone caught Eleanor off guard.

"What do you mean?"

Elizabeth eyes widened like a child caught misbehaving, visibly flinching at the hasty words before continuing more cautiously, slow and guarded.

"I'm sorry Eleanor it's just…you have to understand that the quickest way to bring down Rapture and Columbia is to…cut off the head of the snake, so the saying goes."

The look Eleanor shot her was one of shock, tinged with no small amount of disappointment and a hint of anger. Elizabeth however, was stern in her position and gave an iron hard stare in return.

"No," Eleanor said lowly, frustrated and confused by the firmness of her own rebuttal. The most obvious solution was stark before her yet she refuse to see it like a stubborn child and for what? She owes Sofia nothing but a vivisected childhood so why did her conscience whispered forgiveness and mercy?

"I mean…you have to understand," Elizabeth continued.

"I don't want to talk about it," Eleanor muttered darkly.

"But…"

"I said drop it!" Eleanor snapped harshly and Elizabeth recoiled as if burned.

"I'm sorry! I didn't…" Eleanor scrambled to apologize but was struck silent by the brunette deepening frown, resolute in its finality.

"I know what must be done," Elizabeth stated coldly. "I need to know that you'll be able to do the same."

"And what would that be?" Eleanor shot back. "Damn it Elizabeth, I'm not taking the easiest way out."

"Then what do you suggest we do? You tried being merciful to Sofia and see how she's repays it, you can't make the same mistake twice Eleanor."

"I can't Elizabeth, I…I just can't, alright?"

"Why?! After everything that she'd done to you, to Delta, to this town, to us, how can you think for even a second that there is any hope left for that woman?"

"Stop it Elizabeth…stop it!"

"She'll never stop Eleanor, as long as she's alive she'll never stop. Why can't you see that? Why?!"

"Because she's my mother!" Eleanor shrieked, leaping from her seat to loom over the seated Elizabeth. "What would you know about family? Huh?! You drowned your own father in a bloody pond!"

Eleanor clasped her hands over her mouth and staggered back in trembling fright, realizing too late what she had just done. Conversation and music ceased, only the ghostly echo of her outburst lingered in the now silent hall.

After what seemed like an hour of stunned silence, the paled Elizabeth wordlessly rose from her seat, both hands braced unsteadily on the armrests, the empty glass slipping from her fingers to fell with a muffled thud on the carpet below.

"Elizabeth…I'm…" Eleanor voice came in remorseful gasps as she reached for Elizabeth, only to have the supplicating gesture swathed away angrily.

"Don't…" Elizabeth seethed, fresh hot tears cascading down her cheeks, words parting her quivering lips in painful rasp. "Just…don't…"

Elizabeth spun away, back hunched like one in mourning and staggered weakly toward a tall window. She leaned against its towering frame just as a shuddering sob overtook her, a raking, heart wrenching cry, loud and unbarred.

Sinking back into her own seat, Eleanor pulled her knees up into the cradle of her arms and buried her face into it, weeping a straggled chokes of her own.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" She hissed, slamming her head into the crook between her knees, berating herself for want she had done, for the hurtful and thoughtless words that can never be taken back. Rosalind began her music anew while Tangmo quickly struck up another conversation, both a flimsy veil vainly draped over the shattered glasses that now littered the floor.

When Eleanor finally raised her head, tears exhausted and dried, she found Elizabeth rooted to the same spot, unmoving and silent like a grieving statue.

What was she going to do? They fought before, sure, but it had been over stupid things that were quickly remedied by a swift apology. But she had hurt Elizabeth deeply this time, and a simple 'sorry' could never suffice in mending this lacerated rift between them.

But no good would come by doing nothing either.

With great apprehension, fear and shame weighing heavy like iron shackles, Eleanor gingerly got to her feet, took a deep, stilling breath and began her slow approach toward Elizabeth.

At the edge of her vision she could see Sally's head poking over the couch, absolutely engrossed by the transpiring drama, unblinking eyes following every shambling gaits. Thankfully Brigid was quick to direct Sally attention elsewhere with a sharp chastising hiss, the blonde spun with a start back to the talking Tangmo and Laura.

Eleanor stopped a few feet away from Elizabeth, back turned and showing no sign of acknowledging her presence.

"Elizabeth…?" Eleanor shook as she spoke, head held low.

"Go away," Elizabeth said weakly, barely audible over the piano soft tune.

"Elizabeth please…"

"Go away…please just go away…"

Eleanor reeled back from the soft utterance, stunned by how such a simple word of tired pleading could hurt so much. She had reserved such pain for mother's belittling words and lies, but to discover the same wrenching ache from Elizabeth was a shock to her. Tears blurring her vision, Eleanor thought of simply walking away but her stubborn streaked held her firmly in place.

Eleanor was about to make her second approach when a window beside Elizabeth exploded. Glasses flew as a blinking radio crashed through and clattered to ground. Squealing, Eleanor and Elizabeth leapt away from the glittering shards as Laura rushed to their side.

"What happened?" The Brit demanded, glaring at the object.

"Oh, give me a break," Tangmo peered out the window and spun to face the approaching Luteces. "I thought you said this fucking place was cloaked!"

"It is," Rosalind piercing gaze answered him.

"Really?" Tangmo wrapped his arm around Rosalind shoulder and dragged the surprised Lutece toward a window and pointed outside. "The fuck is this then?!"

Flat against the wall, Eleanor carefully edges her head over the wooden pane to find an army of Rapture and Columbian zealots scrambling into formation about fifty yards away from the hotel entrance, everything with a trigger and a barrel trained in their direction. They appeared to move with mild confusion, officers herding there men and jittery splicers into position while Patriots and Big Daddies lumbered to their designated spot.

Elizabeth came to stand beside her, gasping once she saw the assembled besiegers and turned to face Eleanor, their fear mirroring one another. But the moment of camaraderie was short lived when the brunette spun and stalked away from Eleanor, the hateful scorn was like a bullet ripping clean through her soul. Eleanor slump against the wall for a moment before meekly following Elizabeth, fighting back tears.

"That is not possible," Rosalind said harshly, her stony visage betraying only a slightest hint of unease.

"The tangible proof says otherwise bro," Tangmo hefted his rifle and started toward the corridor they had come in. "I'm gonna go check if the backdoor is still clear!"

"I know you're in there, DeWitt," Daisy Fitzroy hard edge voice boomed from the radio.

"Don't even dare think about running," the Vox leader continued as Eleanor went to pick up the radio and joined the others. "We have every exit guarded, so don't waste your time trying to sneak out of this deathtrap. Your only chance of surviving is to open that front door and give yourself up."

Eleanor trepidation was shared by Elizabeth, Brigid and Sally, fully recognizing the woeful situation they have now found themselves in. The Luteces remained unperturbed as ever while Tangmo and Laura began laughing, wide grin splitting open their faces. As if hearing the two chaperons mocking cackle, Daisy transmission resumed with burning agitation.

"Did you hear what I said you little bitch!? If you're not outside in one minute I'm ordering every gun here to open fire and bury y'all under the hotel!"

"How about you shove that fake threat up your tight arsehole and unwind a little, eh love?" Laura took the radio and retaliated on their behalf.

The Brit blunt vulgarity managed to stun Daisy into silence, for a good five seconds at least.

"Who is this?" She demanded. "Is this Lamb's girl? Eleanor?"

"Oh just because we have similar accent, that automatically makes us British lasses the same yeah?!" Laura continued without missing a beat. "Whoa! And here I thought you're above petty stereotype my dear Daisy!"

"I don't give a fuck what shade of white you are! What I do know is that you and that gook were the one responsible for killing my men. If you two give up now, I promise to make it quick."

"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me you little bitch?!" Tangmo snatched the radio from Laura. "Now you listen to me you cheap Harriet Tubman rip-off, you're not going to blow anybody up because we have what you want, so if you think any of us is going to believe that gung ho bullshit you can just fuck right off!"

Daisy laugh was malicious as she replied.

"I gave you the easy way out boy, but if you're looking for a world of hurting then I'm more than happy to oblige. All I got to do is give a little nod and my men will storm the hotel. It wouldn't take long before y'all are overrun, and I've given specific orders to bring you both in alive. I'll see to it you both die slow, but not before I make you watch as the two lambs are lead to the slaughter."

Was this the same Daisy Fitzroy she had heard about? From what Elizabeth had told her the woman was a driven freedom fighter that seeks to help the downtrodden and the oppressed, decisive but never cruel. But this woman at the end of the radio sounded murderous and more than ready to perpetrate unspeakable atrocity to achieve her goal.

What happened to her? Where was the benevolent champion of the prole? And why was she working with her most hated foe?

"By all mean bitch, fucking do it!" Tangmo disregarded Daisy threat. "Send in your Vox and Founders and we'll pile their corpses so high that by the time the first wave is over, we're gonna have a new Great Wall around this place. There's going to be enough blood spilled here for ten Tarantino's film. Our last stand will be of such epic, heroic proportion that Sabaton will be singing songs about us. So do your worst motherfucker!"

"Such profanity is so unnecessary," Eleanor flinched when Sofia soothing voice suddenly replace Daisy fiery tirade. Crippling claws of ice tore into her being and Eleanor fought against her suddenly leaden muscles to stay upright, but this time no warm hands came to brace her from faltering. Glancing at Elizabeth, she saw the brunette sparing her a sideway glance of mingling attention before turning back to the radio, those blue eyes void of empathy.

"Well, well, well, isn't it the queen bitch herself," Laura was now speaking into the radio.

"A queen? Oh my dear, you are mistake," Sofia crooned warmly. "Such an archaic concept is beneath me."

"Fancy yourself a god then lassie?"

"I am but a simple preacher trying to steer her family toward our destined place in the world, a place where we belong. Is that not what we all seek in the end?"

"Cut the frivolities ya specky cunt, what do you want?"

"Again with the vulgarity my dear girl, a most poignant sign of pent up sexual frustration and parental neglect."

Laura went beet red and shouted loud enough that it rendered the radio obsolete.

"Don't you dare talk about me ma and da you fucking wanker! I swear, I'm gonna smack you right in the gob so hard that you'll be shitting out your own teeth! All thirty two of them!"

"I rest my case."

"Argh! What the fuck do you want?!"

"A parley."

"Are you serious love?" Laura inquired, more than surprised.

"Of course," Sofia gave her calm reply.

"You see, I'm not an American, my jolly old accent is a dead giveaway. But there's one sentiment of the Red, White and Blue that me and my colleague here unequivocally share. It goes something like this: WE DON'T NEGOTIATE WITH TERRORIST! So if you think we're going to be sitting down over a nice cup of tea, you might as well just send in Daisy's grunts because I'm really not in the mood to talk."

"Why do you seek to throw your life away in such a wasteful manner? Surely you must see that we're offering you an option to end this conflict without any more bloodshed. You owe nothing to Ms. DeWitt and my daughter. By remaining at their side you have chosen only annihilation, so why do you persist against such overwhelming odds?"

"Well, we Scots are a contentious people, and my Thai friend here is even worst. Now, if you're done with the nicety how about we get on with the killing, yeah?"

"My offer still stands. Take your time to consider, as I see it, I doubt there is much else you can do in the meantime."

Sharp swirling static followed quickly by a click ended the transmission.

"This is bullshit," Tangmo announced.

"I agree, the bitch just want to gloat," Laura shook her head disgustedly. "There have to be some other way out of this hotel, boxed in like this I don't think our chances are looking to good."

"Accept the parley."

Startled eyes honed in on the brooding Elizabeth, her adamant stance leaving little for arguments.

"Are you crazy?! We can't talk to her!" Eleanor cried, unable to believe what she just heard. "It's a trap! The moment we open that door they're going to be storming the hotel with everything they got."

"I'm tired of running," Elizabeth avoided her prying gaze, instead keeping her attention fixed on Tangmo and Laura. "I need to know why they're after us. What can they hope to gain from taking me and Eleanor. If we are to fight our enemy we need to understand their purpose."

"She can't be trusted," Eleanor persisted, feeling a wave of anger rising when Elizabeth still refused to meet her eyes. "Mother will never keep her promise because she sees everyone as a means to an end, something to simply be use and discarded. You're playing into her hands."

"Sofia seem civil enough in her offer, she doesn't sound half as bad to be honest."

"So you're taking her words over mine now?" Eleanor spat.

"Don't try and twist my words Eleanor," Elizabeth sneered.

"Oh, please tell me what you really meant then Elizabeth."

"That I won't shrink away like a frightened little girl from her mother's shadow."

In a blur Eleanor hands shot toward Elizabeth and roughly grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around so that their faces finally met.

"Say that again!" Eleanor yelled and shook Elizabeth who held her glare unblinking. "Go on! Look me in the eye and say that I'm a coward! Say it!"

"Oi! Cut it out!" Laura pulled them apart. "We got a bigger problem than your little domestic quarrel, so get your shits together!"

They fumed at each other but conceded wordlessly as Laura turn to Elizabeth.

"Are you sure about this?" Laura began. "Because this really looks like a trap."

"Yes I am," Elizabeth remained resolute.

"What about you? You're not looking too thrill about this," Laura now addressed Eleanor.

"Let her do want she wants," Eleanor waved her off harshly.

Laura darting eyes scrutinized them both for a moment, outstretched arms slowly lowered as the chance of another explosive confrontation smoldered down. With a sigh, she turns to Tangmo and nodded.

"You got your talk Sofia," Tangmo announced.

"I am glad that you can be persuaded to reason," Sofia's reply held a fleeting hint of gratification.

"Let's get this over with then, come to the hotel alone and unarmed. If I as much as glimpse a shadow of one of your splicer goon then the deal is terminated along with your life."

"Your term is accepted, but I'm afraid that two more people will be accompanying me, rest assured that they would also be unarmed."

"I don't really feel comfortable letting your thugs waltzing through the door."

"You need not worry, they are representative of Columbia as I am a representative of Rapture. We want this proceeding to be as civil as possible."

"Says the woman with a million gun pointed at this place," Tangmo chuckled dryly. "Well hurry up then, we don't have all day."

"Very well," Sofia voiced trailed off to silence as Tangmo tossed the radio onto a nearby couch and hefted up his rifle, gave it a quick check before propping it on his shoulder.

"Stay behind us," Tangmo told them.

"No," Elizabeth stepped forward and halted about ten paces away from the large double door entrance, her posture defiant and fearless. With some reservation Eleanor went to join her, back straighten but lacking the dignify stance Elizabeth was exuding. They traded scowl for a moment before shifting their heated attention at the door.

"You four stay back," Laura addressed Brigid, Sally and the Luteces as she came to stand beside Elizabeth while Tangmo took his place by her side, both the chaperones dusting and adjusting their battered uniform into a more presentable state.

"Hey, if I'm gonna die, I'll die well dress," Tangmo smirked when Eleanor shot him a look, surprisingly calm given their rather grim position. Before she could continue her pondering the entrance eased open, the creaking wood abnormally loud in the heavy hush that enveloped them. The doors parted by a fraction before a slim figure slipped through, dressed in a pristine navy blue dress that stretched down to her knees, crisply tailored to give the wearer a very professional presentation. Sofia Lamb casual appearance was a stark contrast to the Armageddon she had unleashed around them.

Sofia adjusted the creases on her white cuffs as the door slammed shut behind her, fiddling with the attire for a moment before striding forward, chin held high with snobbish propriety. Beside the Rapture matriarch was Daisy Fitzroy, clad in her guerilla outfit of grimy white shirt, brown trouser with suspenders and a red scarf around her neck. The third member, a woman judging from the slight frame and height, was hidden behind the two, delicately shadowing in their footsteps. She was wearing a black conservative looking dress and a wide brim hat of the same shade, tilted down to hide her face.

Eleanor tried to get a better look but found her concentration arrested by mother's piercing glare, fixed on her like a lioness moments from pouncing a gazelle. She began to falter again, Sofia very presence robbing her of what little courage she had conjured in anticipation for this impromptu reunion, staying upright and keeping her knees from wobbling became a herculean effort as the blonde woman drew closer.

Then she felt a familiar warmth wrapping around her hand. Surprised, Eleanor turned to see her hand clenched tightly in Elizabeth's own, the brunette stern face never leaving the approaching group. Eleanor shaky squeeze was met with Elizabeth reassuring own, easing her knotted fear one strand at a time.

The physical contact did not escaped Sofia notice, for the psychologist eyes darted down to the entwining hands, held it neutrality for a moment before returning her bearing forward.

"Okay that's close enough," Tangmo pointed his gun at the dignitaries when they were five paces away from Eleanor and Elizabeth.

"As you wish," Sofia obeyed with a polite nod while Daisy grumbled under her breath and complied reluctantly, the third woman still hidden from view.

"Brigid," Dr. Lamb greeted the geneticist with an unfriendly glance.

"Sofia," Dr. Tenenbaum returned the gesture with equal intensity.

Sofia shifted her attention to Eleanor then.

"Nice to you again Eleanor," there was no maternal love in that cold statement.

"Mother," was all Eleanor could managed, her voice parched and hoarse.

"And this must be Ms. Elizabeth DeWitt," Sofia extended her hand. "I am Sofia Lamb, a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Charmed," Elizabeth didn't reciprocate the greeting, eliciting a light laugh from Sofia.

"I see that you have contracted my daughter disrespectful habit, truly unfortunate," Sofia shook her head before turning to regard Tangmo and Laura. "And do you two have a name?"

"Lord Commissar Tangmo of the Astra Militarum."

"Lady Inquisitor Laura of the Ordo Hereticus."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Sofia appeared unfazed by the two as she waved her hand toward Daisy. "This is Daisy Fitzroy, the fearless leader of this most daring and righteous expedition."

"Nice to finally meet you, Tangmo," Daisy spat with unhidden venom.

"Likewise, it is good to meet a fellow champion of the oppressed and the voiceless," Tangmo tipped his cap and for a moment Daisy visage lost its fiery demeanor, flabbergasted by the polite greeting. The brief moment of calm ended when Tangmo gave Daisy a scathing scoff.

"Even if it's not the most successful specimen," Tangmo shrugged mockingly. "Then again, what can I expect from a chambermaid."

"You arrogant little shit!" Daisy roared, body hunched low as if to pounce the smirking Asian.

"Calm down Ms. Fitzroy, we are under the banner of truce after all," Sofia skinny arm barred the fuming Vox. "In the end, someone has to be the adult in situation as delicate as this one."

"Who the hell is that?" Laura cut in, weapon pointed at the silent woman behind Sofia and Daisy. "Is that Lady Comstock or something?"

"I think it would be prudent if she makes the introduction herself."

Sofia and Daisy both stepped aside, parting like a grand theater curtain for the demure woman to stride prissily toward them, unheeding of the guns trained on her.

"Not one more step woman," Tangmo's barrel was almost pressed on her temple when she finally stopped, standing only a couple of feet away from Eleanor and Elizabeth, head lowed with the hat still shielding her face from questing eyes.

"Who are you?" Eleanor demanded.

"Is that you…Lady Comstock?" Elizabeth added.

The woman giggled then, her voice soft and breezy with a tinge of loving tenderness to every note. Eleanor shuddered however, for despite the pleasant nature of the laugh she was disturbed but how familiar it sounded to her. She traded look of alarm with Elizabeth, who had also noticed the peculiarity with rising uneasiness as the woman went silent again.

"Lady Comstock?" She began good naturedly but Eleanor couldn't help but cringed. That voice, it sounded exactly like…

"As much as I respected her selfless dedication to the people of Columbia," she went on before Eleanor train of thought can complete its circuit. "I must correct you in your assumption that I am the prophet's wife."

"Is it me or does she sounds kinda like…" Laura turned to Tangmo, both sharing the same look of realization, speaking aloud the singular thought on both Eleanor and Elizabeth's mind.

"Like her?" The woman pointed at Elizabeth, her hand wrapped in a black lacy glove that covered her arm all the way up to the elbow, crisscrossing floral pattern flowing over pale unblemished skin. "It's good that someone finally noticed."

She then reached up and delicately removed her wide brim hat, pulling it down over her face as the pristine visage finally looked up to meet Eleanor and Elizabeth dirty own. Their frightened gasp shattered the silence, loud and rasping like cleaving blade that rends the very air apart. Eleanor stumbled and almost fell flat on her behind when she jolted away from the woman, while Elizabeth managed a few fearful steps back, hands clasped over her mouth in a posture of absolute terror.

This woman standing before them was…Elizabeth. Every minute detail of her face, from the contour of her jaw, the fullness of her lips to the shape of her cheekbones was identical to that of Elizabeth. Her black hair was done in a stylish bun that leaves nothing to obstruct her appearance.

"Hello Elizabeth," her beautiful smile exuding complete satisfaction. "Or should I say, sister."


	13. The Villains Reveal Their Plots

"What…are you?"

Elizabeth query came in breathless gasp, every syllables rasping against her constricted throat, parting trembling lips in frail whispers as she behold this…revenant. Beside her Eleanor stood in frozen confusion, unable to make sense of what she was seeing. Turning desperately to the Luteces, Elizabeth felt her heart sank when the twins, in a rare display of emotion, gawked at the apparition with open bafflement.

Even Tangmo and Laura had surrendered themselves to disbelief, lost on any explanations that could shed light on this anomaly.

"Don't be like that Elizabeth," the copy purred sweetly, her smooth sultry tone reminding Elizabeth uncomfortably of the time she masqueraded under a femme fatale persona back in Rapture, and to see the charade replayed to her was a most unpleasant experience.

"No need to be afraid my dear," she went on flirtingly. "For at the end of the day, we share the same blood and soul."

"No!" Elizabeth yelled, anger thawing fear. "I am not you! You're nothing but a doppelganger, some quantum glitch that fancied itself a living thing when you're nothing but a mistake!"

"Am I your doppelganger Elizabeth? Or are you mine?" A dark shade came over her pleasant feature then. "Nevertheless, you are wrong in your very rudimentary analysis of me."

"Enlighten us then," her wits returning, Eleanor approached the doppelganger, both hands simmering ice and fire.

"Must I? Oh, if you haven't figured it out by now then I suppose," she flaunted an exaggerated crestfallen look at Sofia. "I am very disappointed Ms. Lamb, from everything you have told me I had assumed that your daughter was a genius, not something so woefully mediocre."

"What!?" Eleanor made to leap at the copy but Elizabeth quickly grabbed her shoulders.

"Don't be stupid," Elizabeth hiss was received by Eleanor hateful glare, gliding seamlessly from the copy to her.

"Get off me!" With a shove, Eleanor pushed Elizabeth away and stomped a few steps back to glower at the doppelganger.

"And here I thought you two were friends," Daisy snickered, reveling in their discord.

"Now, now my dear Daisy no need for teasing," the doppelganger gave a dainty wave of her hand.

"Of course mam," the Vox complied with easy obedience, giving the black clad woman an almost friendly nod.

"Where was I? Oh yes," she turned back to Elizabeth, a gloating smirk carving up her crimson lips. "You remember the lighthouses and the sea of stars?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

"As you would recall, my dear Elizabeth, every door in that endless ocean represented a variation of what is and what can be. All the possibilities and deviations, no matter how great or small, coexisted in harmony, ignorant of each other but at peace in the quantum aether."

She paused, like a patient teacher waiting for her students to catch on. The approving nod was condescending beyond words.

"All was in perfect equilibrium until an antithesis emerges through one of those infinite possibilities," the doppelganger's glare struck Elizabeth like a hammer; she never thought a single person could harbor such degree of enmity. "And with her callous hands brought an end to that serenity."

"You're here to punish me for destroying Columbia?" Elizabeth shot back. "Is that it? You want retribution?"

"What did you think were behind those doors?" The copy demanded.

"Another Columbia, what of it? Everything created by your precious prophet deserves to be destroyed."

"Even the children? What were their crimes Elizabeth? What about the mother caring for her child? What of the honest man toiling for his family?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Behind every door is a world. With people living and going about their mundane affair like this one, content with the boon God has given them, innocents whose only offence was to merely exist."

"What…? No, that can't be – No! You lie!"

"Do you know how it felt when the world frayed like a piece of cloth? To see nothing but the hungry maw of darkness as it swallowed the sun, the ground and the very air you breathe? Can you imagine the pain and despair as you beheld the very fabric of your being destroyed one molecule at a time?"

"No!" Elizabeth shook her head furiously, denying every poisonous words yet unable to conjure any rebuttal to the doppelganger accusation.

"You denounced Father Comstock as a tyrant, yet it was you who brought about our end. It was by your hands that you doomed millions to genocide, countless lives forever lost to the darkness of un-existence."

"Yet here you are when you're supposed to be dead," Eleanor commented.

"Very peculiar isn't?" The doppelganger chirped sweetly. "But yes, when the sundering happened we didn't die per say, but merely became drifting fragments in a vacuum of nothingness. That is until I came along."

"How?"

"In case you haven't noticed the resemblance, Elizabeth and I are one and the same, our genetic makeup identical down to the smallest strand of DNA. However, our likeness goes deeper than the superficial. For you see…" the doppelganger raised her delicate hand and with a graceful flick of the wrist, slit open a Tear.

Elizabeth could only stare as the copy plucked out a bright red rose, caressed it between her fingers and gave it a long sniff.

"You see Elizabeth," the copy waved away the shimmering Tear and the rose, her movement confident and lithe, barely straining as she bended reality to her whim. "As there were many Comstock and many Booker, there were also many of us. And although our beginning may not be the stuff of fairytale, it is in the story where our divergent became apparent. While you, like many others, rebelled against the holy teaching of Father Comstock, I instead embraced the prophet's words."

"You were brainwashed by Comstock," Elizabeth gritted her teeth with the accompanying memories of her own captivity. "You succumbed to torture and conditioning. Booker never showed up to save you."

"Torture? Oh my…and here I'd hoped you were the smart one between the two. You see, like you, I'm that one in a million that deviate the farthest from our predestined path. My Comstock never hid or isolated me from all that was outside my tower; instead he was honest and laid bare the truth of how I came under his wings."

"Very peculiar," Robert voiced his ill-timed observation.

"Indeed my dear Robert," the copy nodded. "For you see, I willingly allowed the prophet to mold me into his successor. Soon I came to see him as my true father, not the dead beat drunkard that would readily sell me to wipe away his own gambling debt."

"Don't you dare talk about Booker like that!" Elizabeth snapped and now it was Eleanor who held her back, "Don't you dare!"

"He did tried to whisk me away though, like a knight rescuing his damsel," the doppelganger smile gushed with sadistic satisfaction. "I let him dragged me across Columbia, I was quite the actress you see, playing my part in making the False Shepard think that he was the savior and not the sinner that he was.

"I watched with admiration, admittedly, of how hard he fought to free me from supposed captivity, what a sad waste it was to see such fighting spirit thrown away in a blind and futile struggle for atonement. But I played along, waiting for the time to strike down the man destined to bring ruination to Father Comstock's Eden. It was after he got me aboard Lady Comstock airship and charted it for Paris that I bashed his head in with a wrench. The look on his face was of such utter, crushing betrayal that I actually felt sorry for him, for a few seconds at least before the Founders dragged him away to Comstock's house."

"No…" Elizabeth moment of shock twisted into snarling anger. "You monster!"

"I'm sure you are familiar with the surgeon's procedure?" Her soft snickers reveled in Elizabeth seething misery. "Father Comstock was merciful however, and in his boundless generosity and patience gave Booker the chance to repent his sin. But he was obstinate, even after the surgeon best effort and the prophet tireless persuasion, the False Shepard endured, shying away from redemption like the devil before Almighty God. After two months we realized that he was a lost cause, and I was the one to put him down like a stubborn mongrel that he is."

Elizabeth saw only red then, the world narrowing until dripping crimson erased all corporeality, leaving only the hazy image of the doppelganger, her loathsome smile wallowing and exalting. Elizabeth lunged and clawed at the woman but something held her back, an unseen force coiling around her limbs like a snake, refusing to let go despite her ferocious effort.

It wasn't until a sound broke through the flooding veil of scarlet that the burning miasma receded, the hotel interior returning to her in throbbing glare.

"Elizabeth stop!" Said a familiar voice, so far and fading at first before rushing back in a jarring boom.

"Stop damn it!" Next came a face, so much alike her in many way, that familiar piercing blue eyes locking with her own. Eleanor face was strained and taunt as she held Elizabeth back from attacking the woman in black.

"Elizabeth look at me!" Eleanor cupped her face. "Control yourself! Don't let her get under your skin!"

"…okay…okay," words came back to Elizabeth in rasping hoarse, her throat raw and parched. Strange, she didn't remember uttering a sound when she tried to attack the copy. The scarping sting in her windpipe said otherwise though.

"You really need to control your temper honey," the doppelganger sneered. "It's quite unsightly you know?"

"Are we quite done here?" Eleanor spat and let go of Elizabeth.

"Almost dear, be patience. Now where was I?" the woman tapped her chin thoughtfully before perking up. "Oh yes! The afterlife of unreality. Naturally, I was heartbroken to see all that I've loved perished, but soon enough despair turns to anger and all my thoughts were consumed by the singular drive to find the person responsible."

If looks can truly kill, the near palpable animosity exuding from the woman would have send Elizabeth to hell and back ten times over.

"It took some times, but I was able to make myself whole again, clawing my way out of the endless black that was the quantum equivalent of limbo," she flashed her own glittering thimble at Elizabeth. "Father Comstock never created an inhibitor to dampen my ability. So without any restriction, I was able to hone and perfected my ability."

"For real?" Tangmo turned to the Lutece. "I mean, she's literally saying she cheated death by crawling herself back into existence after being atomized."

"Theoretically speaking, for someone with such a special standing amongst the ever fluctuating dark matter of the quantum universes," Rosalind began. "I do believe that it is in the realm of possibility that, despite being broken and scattered with the unmaking of Columbia, this alternate Elizabeth can, through sheer willpower and mastery of her ability, remade herself from her position of quantum displacement."

"Very good madam Lutece, very good!" The copy gave a mocking clapping.

"That still doesn't explain how you've managed to amass so much assets and resources for this undertaking," Rosalind continued.

"Simple, I've mastered the manipulation of the Tears. And when you have total command over such power, the effort in pushing its boundary decreases quite significantly. I managed to bring back and salvaged the many scattered fragment of Columbia floating in the aether; people, places and landmark, nothing better than debris which I remade with my own hands, until at last me and my followers managed to scrounge up a parody of our lives before doom fell upon us."

"Let me guess, you got bored of living in your little hovels and slums and decided to migrate?" Laura gave her apathetic input.

"We cannot thrive in such a horrid condition," the doppelganger said. "And it didn't take long for me to realize that I wasn't as powerful as I should be, more likely the adverse effect of being unmade. It was difficult but after sometime I managed to travel to other realities. And as I traversed the ruin of those Columbia, I began to notice a pattern. A story, a sighting of the False Shepard and someone looking just like me, jumping across multiple realities, wreaking havoc on the Prophet and the Vox until she was finally consumed by a blinding white light and simply…disappeared."

The copy turned to Daisy and smiled sweetly, "Can I have a sip of water my dear? All this one sided talking is making me rather parched."

"Here you go mam," the Vox leader handed her a canteen with a professional, almost militaristic haste. The woman drank deeply, indulging every last drop as she ignored Tangmo and Laura rising agitation at the obvious stalling tactic.

"Thank you Daisy," she handed back the canteen, ever polite and courteous. "Now all of you might be wondering, how did I managed to locate our dear Elizabeth? Such a daunting task would have been near impossible given the multitudes of realities that lay before me. You'll be surprised how easy it was once I reached the sea of lighthouses, and what a somber sight it was.

"The stars had all lost its glimmer to a dull chalk, while the lighthouses stood broken, a beacon no more, nothing but a lightless tombstone that marked a dead world. But yet, one stood shinning, a white sun piercing the velvety ebon in defiant of desolation. So I waded through the ocean, lifeless images of our fallen sisters flowing beneath the rippling wave as my only companion, and threw open the door. And behold, I found a city…beneath the sea."

Elizabeth never took her eyes of the smirking doppelganger, but found her fortitude faltering somewhat from the woman's mouthful monologue. Her description of the sea of lighthouses coincided with Elizabeth own memory, back when she had asked the Luteces to bring her back to Rapture, back to where she had died. She remembered the encompassing storm, the oppressive darkness, and the ghostly images of her corpse drifting on the waves as the Lutece rowed their boat onward to what was to be her final resting place.

The doppelganger was spotless on the detail which, to Elizabeth great reluctance, proved that her story holds significant veracity.

"It was so good to finally be in a place that was whole again," the woman went on, titling her upward in a posture of dreamy adulation. "Even though Rapture had long passed its glory day, it was still wonderful to be in a world not ripped apart by quantum cataclysm. Where objects don't teeter on the edge of static dissolution, where the ground was still and firm, where vibrant shades of color dances before my eyes instead of grieving gray.

"But then I realize that I was lost, clueless on how to navigate this strange new reality, and most importantly find your where about. I didn't know where to begin, but one name stood pronounced in the dying halls of Rapture: Sofia Lamb."

Sofia and the copy trade each other polite nods before continuing.

"So I did a little searching, a daunting task I assured you for I have absolutely no grasp on the advance technology that was Rapture, but I managed," the doppelganger shrugged. "Eventually I was able to locate the where about of the esteem Dr. Lamb, imagined my shock when I found such an incomparable woman of science institutionalized like some common loon."

"By her own daughter of all people," Sofia narrowed her gaze on the quivering Eleanor.

"Using the Tears, it wasn't long before I found my way to Arkham Massachusetts, where I was able to make contact with Dr. Lamb and…Sofia, wouldn't you want to tell this part?"

Sofia was about to speak when Tangmo rolled his eyes and let out a very audible groan before stomping away suddenly to the left, rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?!" Daisy roared and made to stalk after him.

"Would you calm down already?" Tangmo hefted up a plush chair and carried it back to where he was standing. "Jesus Christ woman, did you OD on a bowl of Khorne flakes this morning or something?"

"Umm…what are you doing exactly?" Laura brow rose as Tangmo seated himself down and trained his gun on the three Rapture and Columbia delegates.

"Hey, if they're gonna reveal all of their nefarious plan, I might as well be comfortable," Tangmo said, fidgeting to get the right position.

After a second of contemplation, Laura walked over to the right and retrieved her own chair, but stop and held her gaze on the adjacent sofa for a moment.

"Hey, do you two need…" Laura turned back to them.

"That would be so…"

"We're more than capable of standing, thank you very much," Elizabeth snapped before Eleanor could completed her request. Eleanor shot Elizabeth a dirty look to which she brushed it off with an annoyed shake of her head. They both needed to present a staunch appearance against these three, not slouching, why was it so hard to understand?

"Proceed when you're ready," Laura crossed her legs and waved snobbishly at Sofia.

"Thank you young lady," Sofia bowed politely then cleared her throat. "Now as you might have guessed, these last years have not been my best. After having my work and dream destroyed by a monster and its insolent daughter, I was brought up to the surface and incarcerated within a mental asylum."

Eleanor began to buckle under Sofia scornful glare and would have crumbled if Elizabeth hadn't reached for her trembling hands. Dr. Lamb eyes narrowed on them again, a sharp scrutiny that lasted mere seconds as Eleanor leaned into Elizabeth for support. The piercing glance dissipates quickly and was replaced by Sofia calm demeanor as she began her part of the story:

"It was about four months ago, just a day like any other, the same schedule of drug inhibition, grueling psychological analysis and the ever healthy dosage of electro therapy. But something new strode through those halls that morning. A woman, a myth of Rapture, a ghost made flesh from the whispers within those sunken halls beneath the Atlantic. And although she may bear a striking resemblance to my treacherous daughter, I was ecstatic to meet this individual."

Dr. Lamb easy gaze was now wholly rested on Elizabeth, too which she responded with a hard look. Sofia seems to take the gesture in jest as she continued with a motherly smile.

"You were quite a tall tale back in Rapture my dear, many of the splicers spoke of you in hushed reverent. An angel that can summon all manners of strange and wonderful things; a specter that even caught the attention of the esteemed Suchong, who was the last person I know to dwell in mysticism and fantasy. His notes were detailed but sparse, a little distraction from his continuous work in plasmid development. I read it, but never put an ounce of attention to it until I meet lady Columbia…"

"Wait, lady Columbia?" Elizabeth head snapped toward the doppelganger.

"Oh! Where are my manners? I do apologize, with all the excitement I've lapsed in my etiquette, so allow me to make a proper introduction," holding up the hem of her skirt, she gave a prim courtesy. "Lady Columbia, at your service."

"Columbia? Seriously?!" Tangmo was thoroughly unimpressed. "That's the best you can come up with?"

"I will not share the name of the person who had destroyed my life!" Columbia shot back hotly, scowling at Tangmo. "Elizabeth might have been the name given to me by Father Comstock, but I'll be damned if I kept it after what she'd done!"

"Whatever, it's still lame," Tangmo shrugged and Sofia coughed loudly before Columbia can counter him.

"Please lady Columbia, you are better than to fall for his aggravation," Columbia settled down slowly, heeding Sofia soothing words with a quick nod, but not before casting Tangmo one sharp parting glance. "As I was saying, my first meeting came when Columbia visited me one fine morning, claiming to be a distant relative. After a short introduction she conveyed to me information that only those aware of Rapture can part. We spend the morning getting to know each other until the orderly put a stop to our pleasantry. Columbia however promised to return later that night. I was admittedly skeptical but her promise was kept when she stepped through a laceration in space and time when the last light in the ward went out.

"And so we sat down and talked. We shared our vision of what humanity should strive forward, both our unique circumstances and the enemies that thwarted us. With that we began formulating our plan to take our revenge on those that denied us what was rightfully ours. Our plan was meticulous you see, we…"

"Okay just fooking stop!" Laura leapt up from her seat, so sudden that even the perpetually calm Sofia flinched at the outburst. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to this crap anymore! Jesus! This is like some bad cartoon where the bad guy never shut up!"

"I'm all for exposition but you're right, this is getting out of hand," Tangmo, still seated, gave his more collected input. "And it's not like we don't know where this is totally going, I mean, come on!"

"Don't you dare assumed anything you arrogant little boy!" Columbia growled at Tangmo.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and take a guess, yeah?" Laura took a deep breathe. "You two pretty little megalomaniacs got real chummy after a night of chit chats and gossips, all giggling and the like. Then suddenly you both realized!" Laura made an over the top gasp. "The two of you are so much alike! And what does two psychotic control freaks like to do? Why, they decide to team up of course!" Laura then waved her hand at Elizabeth and Eleanor. "Since you both have problem with these two, the next logical step would be to join force against a common foe. And voila! This happens! Now, tell me if any of that was wrong?"

Columbia opened her mouth to speak but Sofia cut her off.

"A correct, if somewhat crude, deduction."

"Hah! See!" Laura threw her fist in the air triumphantly. "And that whole Rapture Columbia tag-team thing, I got that figured out too! Since miss evil-Elizabeth here appears to be a lot more competent when it comes to handling Tears…"

"Hey!" Elizabeth gave the ground an indignant stomp.

"I'm gonna bet that she was able to open a door into other version of Rapture. So after getting Sofia out, you two went about taking those over. And it went superbly well didn't it? With all those knowledge of the future, you were able to eliminate both Ryan and Fontaine before neither knew what hit them. And with the help of someone who can rip apart reality, it must've felt like cheating."

"Only for those who lost," Columbia said smugly. "I admit you are truly more than meets the eyes."

"Everyone's first and last mistake love," Laura grinned. "May I? I'm wrapping up anyway."

"Oh please, don't let me stop of you."

"So now that the both of you have an army at your beck and call, you decided it was high time to exact vengeance on Elizabeth and Eleanor. And wouldn't you know? They happened to live together, talk about serendipity! And as I said before, this happens. An impressive blitzkrieg all things considered, but then again, you're targeting civilian so any despotic wanker can pretty much pull it off."

"I'm curious about you though," Tangmo said, pointing at Daisy. "Did Columbia scrape you up from some reality where you're a murderous, yet semi-competent military commander who have no qualm working with the KKK?"

"No, I came from the same place as her!" Daisy pointed a shaking finger at Elizabeth.

"Wait, hold up. I thought Elizabeth killed you?"

"Oh she killed me alright! I can show you where the blade went in and came out. But…" Her gaze softened as she turned to Columbia. "Lady Columbia was able to perform miracle. She wrenched me back from the grip of death and raised me back to health. I was indebted to her and she cared for the people, of all standing and colors, so I throw in my weight with her."

"But she's using you Daisy!" Elizabeth cried. "You have to see that!"

"And what if she is?" Daisy spat. "She wasn't the one that ran me through with a scissor!"

"Why are you even pissed off about that? Didn't you agreed with the Lutece for that to happen? Scarifying yourself for the cause and all that jazz?" Tangmo interrupted.

"Yes, I was willing to die for the Vox," Daisy continued, her eyes never leaving Elizabeth. "I was content in my death, but when lady Columbia showed me what had transpired…everything that we've done, all the atrocity, all the suffering, resulted in nothing but darkness."

"Daisy…please…"

"All those people living in squalor, dreaming and praying for better days, fighting and dying so that their sons and daughters can inherit a world free of subjugation…and what was their reward for that struggle? Purgatory. Brought upon by you. Those people now suffered in life and in death. And now, I've been given a chance to repay the one who has brought upon this misery, and I'm gonna enjoy every single moment of it."

"Daisy I'm sorry…I never meant for any of this to happen," Elizabeth voice came in whimpering breeze. "I just wanted to stop Comstock and end the cycle of violence."

"And your need outweighs them?!"

"I'm so sorry…"

"Sorry? Don't you worry about that little Elizabeth, you're going to know what that word means very soon," a sickening smile crept up Daisy's face then, leering at the frightened Elizabeth. "You know, looking back, I wished I'd kill Fink's son, slit the little fuck's throat open ears to ears while you do nothing but watch. The False Shepard probably gonna kill me eventually, but I'll die relishing your hopeless and broken face."

"Holy shit dude, she's fucking metal," Tangmo gave Laura a surprised look.

"So it appears that you have our motive deciphered," Columbia took the stage once more. "But now I believe that it's only fair that we make an inquiry of our own."

"Fine," Laura shrugged.

"What is your purpose here? It doesn't take much deduction to see that you two don't belong. Now, I don't particularly care much about where or when you two are from, but I must confess perplexity in your current alignment. Why are you helping Elizabeth and Eleanor?"

"It's the right thing to do," Tangmo said and gave Elizabeth a wink.

"After everything we've said, you still believe that?" Daisy shot him a look of pure disgust.

"We do, actually," Laura nodded. "Good fucking riddance to Columbia I say, this was the most justifiable case of extinction I've ever seen. Everything relating to that flying shithole is better off going up in flames."

Elizabeth and Eleanor cast a mortified glance at Laura, stunned by her utter nonchalant reaction to what was essentially genocide. Daisy was struck silence, mouth moving but unable to voice her outrage. Sofia betrayed no overt emotion, while Columbia just gave a disappointed grin.

"Given your rather apathetic stance on the suffering of others," Columbia spoke. "I doubt you are no better than those you so easily disregarded."

"I don't think you've been paying attention lady," Tangmo now got up from his seat and took a step toward the doppelganger, Daisy quickly moving in front of Columbia to block his way. "We're worse than anything your pretty little head can comprehend. While Elizabeth's action, taken in good conscience, had resulted in an unfortunate collateral in the form civilian casualty, you better thank God that your end didn't came by our hands. You see if it were up to us, we'll gladly kill every last men, women and child that belong to Columbia and Rapture. And it won't be some quantum accident too, oh no, it'll be a storm of fire and steel. It will be painful, it will be thorough, and we'll smile while it happens."

Daisy hand suddenly darted down to her belt, the bowie knife flashes half way out of its sheath when Columbia firm hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"You are fully committed to your misguided cause then," Columbia said calmly. "Unfortunate, but I can admire such conviction. It is a quality that I seek most in those around me, a steely determination and clarity to see a job through without hesitation."

"Aww, trying to covert us love?" Laura gave a snarky pout.

"The thought had entertained my mind, but I now realize that it would be a fruitless venture."

"Then I guess the pleasantly is at an end, so let's us leave you with an ultimatum," Sofia said. "We will give you ten minutes to surrender Elizabeth and Eleanor. Comply, and you have my word that everyone will be given a free passage to safety. Refuse, and I guarantee that it won't be pleasant." The blonde gaze drifted to Tenenbaum and Sally then, "I've always wonder if the Protector Program can be apply to a woman."

"Are you done now?" Laura asked impatiently.

"We are," Columbia gave a polite bow, her pleasant decorum returning.

"Fuck off then," Tangmo waved to the exit.

Columbia and Sofia turned away primly but Daisy remained, her glare locking with Tangmo's own.

"You want something?" Tangmo spread out his arms in a taunting gesture.

"I'm gonna enjoy hearing you scream, boy," Daisy hissed, her hand still on the knife's leather grip.

"Try me," Tangmo leaned closer and raised his rifle.

"Daisy," Columbia called, turning with a worried look at Daisy. With a huff, she pried her eyes away from Tangmo and stomped over to join the other, the tall door opening and closing with a smidgen of a creak.

"Bloody hell mate, what's your problem with Fitzroy?" Laura observed. "You hate her or something?"

"No," Tangmo shook his head. "Just disappointed in what she'd become."

"Well that was a splendid waste of time," Eleanor sneered, drawing the attention of an already irked Elizabeth.

"Excuse me?!" Elizabeth spun to face her.

"We got absolutely nothing from that."

"We now know their motives."

"And how did any of that helped us exactly?"

"Well…um…well you see…" Elizabeth stammered to answer.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Eleanor scoffed.

Inhaling sharply, Elizabeth shot back, "and what would you have done?!"

"If it was up to me, we would already be half way across town by now."

"Oh yes, run away, your go to solution to every problem."

"I didn't see you putting up a fight against my mother, that copy or Daisy either. All you did was let them walk all over you."

"That's not true!"

"And you have the audacity to call me a coward when you won't even lift a finger to defend yourself."

"At least I didn't trembled and cried when Sofia started talking, you'll be nothing but a sniffling child if I wasn't there to hold your hand."

"That's rich coming from someone who wailed and sobbed because of a little nightmare."

"You have no idea what I've been through!"

"It's nothing compared to what that woman did to me!"

"Oh, give me a break!"

"That's right, I forgot! Nothing in this universe is more important than you!"

"Stop it! Just stop it! Please!"

Breath caught in their throats, Elizabeth and Eleanor turned to see a teary eye Sally staring forlornly at them.

"Please!" The blonde pleaded. "You two are friends, stop fighting! Please!"

They scowled at each other, visage hard and unapologetic as neither moved toward placation. Both however ceased their argument.

"You two done bitching yet? Good," Elizabeth and Eleanor now shifted their combined hostility toward Laura. "Better kiss and make up soon lassies, things are looking pretty bleak."

"Is there a way out?" Tangmo addressed the Luteces.

"Of course," Robert nodded. "But it'll be a narrow escape, Daisy was right when she said every exit has be surrounded."

"Get them to safety," Tangmo ordered and waved over Laura. "Help me with the table."

"What would you do?" Tenenbaum asked, alarmed as the two chaperons began piling furniture to make a haphazard, but sturdy looking barricade about thirty paces away from the hotel's entrance. Shouts, stomping boots and priming weapons echoed from beyond.

"We're gonna hold them back as long as we can," Tangmo said, hefting a rifle in one hand and the oversize Bolt pistol in the other. "That should buy you all enough time to get away."

"But they'll kill you!" Sally cried.

"Obviously, but we'll kill many of them also," Laura said cheerily.

"But if they caught you two…"

"We don't plan on getting caught," the Brit produced a cylindrical tube from her coat, a plain looking thing with what appeared to be a militarized double headed eagle emblazed on its side. She tossed it to Tangmo, who caught it midair and proceeds to stuff it down his belt. Elizabeth gasped when she comprehend what the two were planning.

"You can't seriously…" Elizabeth started.

"We are," Tangmo cut her off. "It's a shameful display to succumb to an enemy onslaught, but it's downright disgraceful to be caught alive. No way in hell we're letting that happened, the tube charges will make sure of that."

Elizabeth was taken aback by Tangmo resolute words, his complete lack of fear was startling to behold, the nodding smile he flashed her way never losing its boyish charm, ready and willing to give his life in the preservation of hers and Eleanor's own, a directive followed absent hesitation with gleeful acceptance.

Elizabeth turned to Eleanor and she saw the same mournful reluctance plain in her eyes, not wanting to leave these two behind for the wolves to tear them apart. But what can they do? To stay was idiocy, no matter how right it felt. The only thing left was to make sure they all escaped now that Tangmo and Laura had paid the steepest price for their survival.

"Time are wasting, we must hurry," Rosalind announced, dejected from humanity as ever.

"No…" Sally said weakly as Tenenbaum began pulling her toward the waiting Lutece.

Trading each other one last resigning look, Elizabeth and Eleanor slowly moved to join the other just as Tangmo began signing, his deep powerful tenor echoing the hall:

" _Men of Harlech stop your dreaming, can't you see their spear point gleaming? See their warrior pennants streaming, to this battlefield._ "

"Come," Robert insisted as he led them into a side door next to the bar. Elizabeth and Eleanor hesitated at the doorway, turning around when Laura added her own angelic mezzo-soprano to the rousing choir.

" _Men of Harlech stand ye steady, it cannot be ever said ye, for the battle were not ready, Welshmen never yield._ "

"We are running out of time," they ignored Rosalind sharp persistence, watching as the two black clad guardians walked to their position behind the impromptu barricade of broken furniture, singing at the top of their lungs.

" _From the hills rebounding, let this war cry sounding, summon all at Cambria's call, the mighty force surrounding!"_

All was quiet, Elizabeth suddenly realize. Outside, the sound of bustling army had ceased. No shouts, no trampling boots, no groan of the Big Daddies, no metallic whines and steaming hiss of the Patriots, no clanging of loading guns, all silenced by Tangmo and Laura booming declaration.

" _Men of Harlech on to glory! This will ever be your story, keep these burning words before ye, Welshmen will not yield!"_

"I can't do this," Eleanor shook her head and shouldered passed Elizabeth, striding back toward the entrenched Tangmo and Laura, both coughing and clearing their throat after such a bombastic performance.

"Get them out of here Rosalind," Elizabeth said before rushing to join Eleanor, drawing her own pistol, ignoring the twins and Tenenbaum protest. Who the hell was she kidding? She wasn't someone who would abandon others even if it means getting herself kill in the process. No, she won't leave her friends to die.

"What the fuck are you two still doing here?!" Laura hissed as Elizabeth joined them.

"Change of plan," Eleanor shrugged, fiery plasmid dancing across her hands.

"Dude, seriously, both of you shouldn't be here," Tangmo gave his own admonition. "This is pretty counterproductive to what we're about to do."

"We can't just let you die," Elizabeth said. "Not after everything you done for us, it wouldn't be right."

"Well that's mightily Disney of you, but I have to insist that you leave," Tangmo said and waved at the unsure Sally and Tenenbaum lurking in the doorway, the Luteces half hidden in shadow. "Will you at least get those two out of here?"

"They are very reluctant to leave Elizabeth and Eleanor," Robert said casually.

"I don't fucking care, get them out!"

"You pick a bloody hell of a time to be obnoxiously stubborn princess!" Laura growled as the rumbling sound of war churned louder outside, the preparation was entering its final phase.

"We might stand a better chance of holding them off if we stick together," Eleanor reasoned.

"Or me and Tangmo could get shot to shit because we were too busy trying to keep you people alive instead of mowing down those other wankers!" Laura spat.

"We are more than capable of taking care of ourselves," Elizabeth huffed crossly. "And you should know by now that we won't be changing our minds."

"Look, I understand that you're both big girls," Tangmo said exasperatedly. "But this isn't making our job any easier."

"We're not leaving," Eleanor put her foot down and smiled. "Besides, it's look like you'll need all the help you can get."

"This is a freaking disaster waiting to happen," Tangmo shook his head but didn't send them away. Elizabeth shared a triumphant smirk with Eleanor.

"You always get soft over a bunch of puppy eye girls," Laura muttered darkly before sighing in defeat. "Fuck, what would I give for an Earthshaker barrage right now, or a freaking air strike, or…"

Laura words faded to a whisper as her eyes widened to a bulging saucer. She spun to face Tangmo, who returned her look of abject shock with a confused one.

"What?"

"You fucking idiot!"

Laura hands lashed out at Tangmo, her lit flamethrower and spasming Agonizer whip clattering to the ground as she fumbled and yanked at the Asian's backpack, fingers clawing at the webbing around his chest. Elizabeth felt her cheek brighten as the Englishwoman went down voraciously on her mate.

"Dude! The fuck?!" Tangmo squirmed as Laura fell on top of him, Elizabeth turning away as heat bloomed across her face and finding Eleanor in the same uncomfortable predicament.

"The pack!" Laura said breathlessly. "The laptop!"

Tangmo went still, then pushed Laura off and flung the hulking pack over his head, the heavy burden landing with a muffled thud. With Laura's help Tangmo prowled through the many pockets and pouches, searching for something with a single-minded urgency.

"Found it! Found it!" Tangmo cried and hefted out what appeared to be a slim black box from the backpack many compartments, placing it with gentle haste on the ground. He then pushed the top half open, hinges holding the lip ajar, a black screen dominated the upper interior with rows of keys like that of a type writer lined up underneath it.

Fingers moving in a blur, Tangmo began typing a sequence of what she assumed were commands into the device. The screen flared to life, lines of codes flashing across the smooth surface in quick algorithmic rows, tiny jumbles of numbers and alphabets piling atop one another. The monitor went dark for a moment before a bright, bold letters saying 'connecting' dominated the center of the screen, an hourglass picture spinning beneath it.

"Come on…come on…" Laura whispered, her chin resting on Tangmo's shoulder as she leaned closer to see while the boy was muttering prayer under his breath, head bobbing to the incantation's rhythm.

After a few seconds the 'connecting' annotation disappeared to be replaced by a detailed map, lists, charts, graphs and blueprints of airplane of various designs. Tangmo and Laura leapt up from the floor with a high pitched yelp, bouncing and laughing as they held on to each other, gushing with happiness, leaving Elizabeth and Eleanor gawking flabbergasted.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Laura let go of Tangmo and leapt around the room, throwing her fists, index fingers pointed, up into the air.

"Thank you Razgriz!" Tangmo made a praying gesture to the sky. "Cum historia, mutat valde Razgriz!"

"What's going on?" Eleanor asked.

"We got air support dude!" Tangmo lunged at the startled Eleanor and gave her a friendly, albeit a little rough hug, hollering loudly.

"Okay, calm down, let's see what we got," Laura attempted to settle down but another devilish grin split across her face once she gaze at the screen. "Oh shit! Holy blooming shit! She gave us everything like promised mate!"

"Good, beautiful, hot, reliable Lita," Tangmo smirked as he tapped his wrist device. "I'm synching the command prompt and maps."

"Doing the same thing," Laura mimicked his movement, still smiling. "Three supply barges, good God!"

"Excessive, but hey, we were never subtle when it comes to kicking ass," Tangmo nodded.

"I'll take it that we got some good news?" Elizabeth asked.

"Really good news," Tangmo said. "We got about a hundred squadrons worth of drones flying above us right now, waiting for me to give the command to bomb the ever living shit out of those Columbia and Rapture assholes."

"Look at this!" Laura walked up to Tangmo, showing him her wrist display. "We got everything! Fighters, harassers, bombers, suppressors and even four fortress class destroyers with enough ammunition to last two days. Goddamned!"

"It's kinda like a hobby, you know?" Tangmo gave the slightly appalled Elizabeth a bashful shrug. "We upgrade and create all new types of drones in our free time. Obsession well spent, I supposed, more rewarding than painting miniature Space Marines that's for sure."

"But Columbia and her forces also control the sky, aren't you afraid that they'll be detected?" Eleanor said warily.

"Those wonky pieces of crap got nothing against us, no offense," Tangmo gave the twins an apologetic look. "The cruising altitude of Columbia's flying ships leveled at around fifteen thousand feet. Our drones are at forty thousand, even if they could see they can't do anything about it."

"So…what's gonna happen now?" Elizabeth said.

"We're about to knock Sofia and Columbia on their asses," Tangmo turned toward Sally, Tenenbaum and the Luteces. "Get behind the counter and stay down, it's about to be louder than Wacken up in here."

Tangmo gave Elizabeth and Eleanor an expectant look, but quickly turned away with a groan once it was clear they were not moving to join the other.

"Fine…stay here, keep low and cover your ears."

Tangmo began tapping his wrist again, Elizabeth and Eleanor tried to get a better look but was obstructed by Laura who draped herself over Tangmo's back. The Brit turned and stuck her tongue out slyly when she heard their complaining tsk.

"Wow, it's just like Men of War Assault Squad," Laura commented.

"Men of War? Dude, this is more like Wargame Red Dragon all things considered," Tangmo retorted as he fiddled with his device.

"Wait…is that," Laura pointed at the screen, a wicked smile curving upward.

"It is," Tangmo nodded and began tapping again.

"What's what?" Eleanor inquired.

"Noise drones," Tangmo said, turning to see Elizabeth and Eleanor trying to crane their necks over his wide shoulders. "You can't see?"

"Well, she's in the way," Elizabeth pointed at Laura, who gave the annoyed looking Tangmo an innocent look, lower lips trembling as he shrugged her off. Now finally able to see, Elizabeth gander at the crisp image of what, she recognized, was Mercy Fall from the sky, red lines and dots covered the geography.

"If we're gonna win," Tangmo said as he swiped away the map and brought up a list. "We're gonna win spectacularly. Any request?"

"Ride of the Valkyries! Ride of the Valkyries!" Laura waved her hand and bounced on her toes.

"Cliché much? No," Tangmo shook his head.

"Oh come on! It's the perfect choice!" Laura pressed on. "It's the 70s with the Vietnam war still going full tilt, there is no better opportunity than this!"

"No."

"Hmph! Spoilsport!"

"How about something a little more us?" Tangmo grinned and scrolled through the list, tapping a line. "Here we go."

Music started blaring.

Like Sofia public announcement from before it seems to come from everywhere at once, traveling through bricks and woods as if it was immaterial. Laura made a loud whoop and smacked her open palm with Tangmo's own, both bobbing their heads to the rising rhythm. The song was fast, thumping bass and battering drum thundered a quick lively tempo, while distorted guitar riffs and starry synthesizer added an extra layer of pounding aggressiveness to the speed.

" _I feel the wind in my hair,_ " the lyric began as Tangmo dashed down the hall and grabbed the radio Daisy had tossed in earlier. " _And it's whispering, telling me things, of the storm that is gathering near, full of power I'm spreading my wings._ "

"Hey Columbia!" Tangmo crooned manically into the radio.

"What is that infernal music!" The doppelganger demanded. "What is happening?!"

"That's the soundtrack of your death bitch!" Tangmo laughed and tossed away the radio as the song continued.

" _Now I'm leaving my worries behind, feel the freedom of body and mind, I have started my journey, I'm drifting away with the wind…_ "

"Close you ears!" Tangmo yelled and ducked behind the barricade, Elizabeth and Eleanor complying without question.

" _I go…_ "

And the world exploded in a staccato of explosion and shattering winds.


	14. The Great Escape?

" _I am hunting high and low! Diving from the sky above, looking for, more and more, once again!_

 _I am hunting high and low! Sometimes I may win, sometimes I'll lose, it's just a game that I play!_ "

Even with her ears clasped shut, Eleanor was still able to hear Tangmo and Laura singing along with the blaring song, their voices creating a jarring synchronization between the thunderous rattling of explosion and high octave melody. Elizabeth scooted closer to her, hostility forgotten as they huddled together in that moment when the world seemed moments from sundering to the mad choir of gleeful destruction.

It was only when the song faded to a distant thumping that the painful concussion ended, the drones drifting away to deliver their deadly payload elsewhere.

"Holy shit that was fucking orgasmic!" Tangmo laughed, pearly canine shining.

"Almost as good as sex," Laura crooned uncomfortably, giving Eleanor a less than ladylike wink.

"Please don't do that," Eleanor said skittishly and Laura just laughed, giving her a playful, yet strong, nudge on shoulder. For the life of her, Eleanor couldn't decide if the two chaperones were just immature or clinically insane.

"You two alright?" Tangmo got up and dusted himself.

"I think so," Eleanor said, swiping flakes of debris off her shirt. She turned and locked eyes with Elizabeth, azure gazing into sapphire, breathe held as neither moved to ease the strenuous silence.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth practically spat the word and rose.

"Whatever," Eleanor muttered with equal agitation. She had always known Elizabeth was zealously vindictive but this was getting ridiculous. Sure, Eleanor admits what she said was wrong and had tried to apologize, so what more did Elizabeth want? For her to grovel and begged for forgiveness?

For all her constitution, the brunette can be so hopelessly childish sometime.

"Did you say something?" Elizabeth shot her a look.

"What do you care?" Eleanor snapped back.

"Are you two still going at it? Shit!" Laura shook her head as the other four came up to join them.

"Was the obnoxious music really necessary?" Rosalind asked.

"Okay, first off," Tangmo held up a warning finger, "do not talk shit about Stratovarius. Secondly, psychological warfare dude, confuse and intimidate your enemy with extrasensory distress. Thirdly, that was epic."

"Hey, what's next on the playlist?" Laura inquired, leaning over Tangmo's shoulder to look at his wrist.

"Umm…let's see," Tangmo swiped his finger over the screen. "Aces High, Aces in Exile, Titan of Our Time, Crimson Rider, Night Witches, Screaming Trance, Burn the Sky, Universe on Fire, Firestorm and Pegasus Fantasy."

"Very nice."

"Any idea on how to proceed then?" Tenenbaum crossed her armed, brow rising expectantly.

"Honestly, I don't know," Tangmo shrugged with a goofy grin. "About five minutes ago I was making peace with Hood, now…yeah, I don't know."

"I don't think we should stay here," Sally gave her soft input.

"I agree with blondie," Laura nodded. "Sooner or later they're gonna be back and this time they won't wait for formalities to kick our…"

"Tangmo, Laura, do you read, over?" A new feminine voice boomed across the hall, jagged by slight static interference but otherwise crisp and clear.

"Are you guys there? Do you read, over?" The voice said again as Tangmo lifted the bright wrist device to his face.

"Lita?!" Tangmo asked, startled.

"Who else?" The woman chirped playfully, "I take it you enjoyed the drones?"

"We love it! Top job love!" Laura now spoke into her own contraption. "Wait a minute, you're already here?!"

"Almost wrecked the anti-grav engines, but yeah," the woman, Lita, said with a hint of apprehension, "we're ahead of schedule."

"Where are you guys right now?" Tangmo asked.

"Hey, where are we exactly?" An indiscernible muffle answered Lita. "The eastern wharf, so hurry your butts over because we're casting off soon! Or at least after I get all this engine crap sorted out."

"Love, you're a life saver!" Laura beamed.

"Thanks! We'll keep the perimeter secure until you arrive. Good luck and see you soon!" Lita ended the transmission and Tangmo turned to Eleanor.

"So where's the wharf at?"

"That way," Eleanor pointed at the entrance, the large twin doors flapping ajar, thrown open by the pounding explosive outside, plumes of dust drifting lazily between the opening.

"Jolly good then lasses, let's go!" Laura strode heedlessly into the swirling curtain of grime, Tangmo following with the same nonchalant manner.

"Don't worry," the boy grinned as he melded into the smoky veil, giving his wrist a tap. "It's empty outside!"

Swallowing down her unease, Eleanor gingerly followed the two. Elizabeth, Sally and Tenenbaum falling in sync behind her while the Lutece has since made their trademark exit.

A powerful stench, putrid and burnt, struck Eleanor like a hammer once she steps outside. She almost threw up when the smokes dissipated to reveal a field of blackened limbs, frozen in its last moment of agonizing contortion.

"Holy shit!" Tangmo pranced around the charred, twisted corpses of Founders and splicers, a gleeful reaper amongst his harvest. "Holy fucking shit! Flawless victory!"

"Fatality!" Laura kicked a Bouncer in the head, the porthole helmet bouncing away from its shredded body, rolling to a stop at the base of a tangled mass of burnt, gnarled machinery that was once a Patriot.

Eleanor shuddered with every crunching step she took, hands covering her mouth and nose against the sickening fetor of cooked flesh.

Sharp whistling of gunning propulsion engines drew Eleanor attention upward. A group of Columbia gunships were swerving dangerously across the smoke marred sky, banking and tilting frantically before exploding into brilliant fireballs of mangled steel and wood.

Tangmo and Laura threw their fists in the air, cheering loudly as gray flying machines zoomed pass, accompanied by the strumming of distorted guitar.

How could these two revel in such wholesome destruction?

"Up the Irons!" Laura yelled as the song picked up tempo and turned to Eleanor. "Lead the way lassie, looks like it's a clear shot from here to the wharf."

"It's this way, follow me," Eleanor took off quickly, eyes averting the smoldering vista around them. Soon enough, they were running through shadowy corridors between empty buildings again, only this time nothing popped up to obstruct them.

The drones did their job with frightening efficiency, quick and terrible like swooping birds of prey.

Bodies littered the street, struck down before any of them could put up a fight. Founders, Vox and splicers lay in bloody heaps, blackened mutilated body parts strewed the cratered ground.

After about ten minutes, the group was able to cut across the ruin of Mercy Fall and into the harbor district. The roads here were wide to accommodate heavy traffic and the houses bore the same broad dimension of the warehouses that dominated the area. And through the surrounding din of battle, Eleanor could faintly make out the sound of crashing waves, just beyond this row of buildings.

"Come on! We're almost there!" Eleanor waved at the group as she sprinted on to an empty avenue.

"Eleanor slow down!"

Elizabeth warning came the exact moment Eleanor spotted eight Founder troops rushing toward her from down the road, pistols and rifles leveled. Digging her heels into the cobbled street, Eleanor skidded to a stop and leapt backward, colliding hard into Elizabeth who was only a few steps behind her, both tumbling to the ground in a tangle mess of limbs as gunfire erupted.

"Get off!" Elizabeth yelled.

"Shut up and stay down!" Eleanor snapped back before realizing that everything was quiet again.

Pushing herself off Elizabeth, Eleanor quickly got into a crouch; flaming hand held toward the Founders, only to find the ten man squad face down in a widening pool of blood.

"I heard gunshots," Tangmo appeared a second later and quickly rushed to help the scowling Elizabeth up to her feet.

A door on an adjacent building swung open and a figure leapt out, so fast that even Tangmo didn't have time to raise his weapon. The man spun and trained his smoking rifle on them, his movement a blur. He was black and clad in an attire that bore similar composition to that of Tangmo's own, a long coat over plate armor and a cap emblazoned with a twin headed eagle. The difference was that his clothe was shaded in dark green rather than midnight black.

The man flashed a smile and lowered his rifle as Tangmo walked up to him, laughing with arms open wide before embracing him heartily.

"About goddamn time!" Tangmo barked and threw his arm around the man's neck, putting him in a friendly headlock.

"I never miss a party!" He shrugged Tangmo off and approached Eleanor, hand extended politely.

"Henry, at your service," he said good naturedly.

"Nice to meet you," Eleanor took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Pleasure's all mine," Henry nodded before moving on to repeat his greeting with Elizabeth. They were shaking hands when two, very near shots, rang out. Tangmo and Henry dropped into a crouch and swept their guns around the avenue, finding nothing but swirling dust at either end of the road.

"The hell?" Henry muttered when two splicers dropped down beside him and Elizabeth, their limp bodies bounced off the cobblestone with a fleshy smack; smoking crater sizzled between their eyes.

"Would you stop acting like Obama and get moving?!" A woman with a sniper rifle in her arms shouted from the roof, her pretty face blistered with impatience. "The drones are flying back to resupply, move!"

"You heard Nikki! Move it lads and lasses!" Laura yelled and herded the four of them into the wharf across the road, Tangmo and Henry bringing up the rear, rifles braced and trained down the way they came. They burst through the side door, Laura's kick sending it flying off the hinges, and into an empty loading area. Forklifts and trucks parked in neat undisturbed row, strong stench of salt and fish wafting over them.

And beyond the lines of vehicle and fishy produce the sea beckons, a single derelict ship anchored at the pier, bobbing gently to the calm waves. It took Eleanor a moment to recognize Mr. Master aging ship, surprised that the old captain has been roped into this also.

"Big bald cyborgs! Big bald cyborgs!" Nikki shouted as she gracefully scaled down the scaffolding and ladders, weapons and gears doing nothing to hinder her lithe movement. She somersaulted off a railing and landed in front of Eleanor when three Handymen crashed through the large door behind them, growling with rage.

"Stop running! It hurts!" Not the most intimidating war cry, but one that the Handymen used nonetheless as they charged.

"Die!" Tangmo roared and unload his gun on the rushing Handymen, Henry and Nikki adding their bullets to the volley while Laura bathed the wharf in stream of liquid fire, immolating the three hulking brute in furious tongues of fire. The Handymen quickly succumbed to the hail of steel and flame, but more splicers, Founders, Vox, Big Daddies and Patriots were pouring into the breach, laying down a determined suppressing barrage that send them all scrambling for cover.

Eleanor tried peeking over the crate she hid behind but was driven back down by exploding splinters and roaring bullets, the scatter return fire from the four guardians doing little to stem the assault.

A sharp metallic whine broke through the cacophonous gunfire then, winding up to a single high pitched note before erupting into a fiery discharge that drowned out all other sound. The Rapture and Columbia attackers faltered, their shots becoming more sporadic as the screeching drew nearer.

Eleanor glanced toward the pier and saw a mountain of a man striding toward them, clad in body armor that mightily resembled a medieval knight, heedless of the bullets cascading off him. Clutched in his meaty hands was a firearm that looked a lot like a Gatling Gun, the spinning barrels glowing white hot as it spewed long uninterrupted line of orange into the masses of Rapture and Columbia, tearing their bodies apart into bloody pieces of meat.

"Get to the ship!" Tangmo rose from his cover and began dishing out return fire as Nikki crawled over from her half destroyed crate of fish, braced herself up next to him before adding her firepower to his.

"Move it lasses! Go!" Laura pushed them onward.

Keeping their heads low the four quickly made their way pass the large man and up the pier, where two women stood flanking the gangway leading up to Mr. Master's ship, chatting casually like it was a day out at the beach.

"Make yourself comfortable ladies," the Asian woman said.

"But you might want to strap on to something, cause it's gonna get bumpy," Eleanor recognized the voice as Lita, the Hispanic woman gave an apologetic smile.

They stepped onto the grimy deck and proceed to collapse from exhaustion, Sally and Brigid sliding down the cracked wooden rail while Eleanor and Elizabeth just crumbled where they stood, breathing hard and wiping sweat from their faces.

"Here girls," said a deep kindly voice as a white cotton towel hovered into view.

Eleanor looked up and smiled at Mr. Master, his big breaded face raked with worries.

"You got roped into this too?" Elizabeth took the towel.

"Well…I wouldn't say roped in per say," Mr. Master fidgeted uncomfortably, acting uncharacteristically nervous.

"Mr. Master, what's going on?" Eleanor asked and the kindly captain began laughing awkwardly, jittery hands wringing the hem of his coat.

"Umm…you see girls…"

"You should tell them the truth, Master," Eleanor looked up to see a blonde man, his hair running down the length of his back, lounging on the roof of the bridge, a rifle in hand and an encouraging look on his face. Mr. Master shot him a glare of pure indignation, to which he respond with an easy smile.

"Just a suggestion," he shrugged innocently before hefting up his rifle and taking aim down the pier.

"What Mr. Erik is trying to say is…"

"We told them everything mate," Laura leapt gracefully on to the deck beside them, followed closely by the Asian woman from earlier.

"You what?!" Mr. Master squawked but quickly clamped his mouth shut when Eleanor and Elizabeth shot him a dirty look. So he knew these chaperones. Eleanor had suspected that the old captain was more than he appeared, but she would never have imagined him to be so…resourceful.

"You told them?!" Mr. Master hissed, more than peeved as he eyed the Briton less than kindly.

"Tangmo did it!"

"Hello there," Tangmo casually strolled aboard, an obnoxious grin plastered across his face.

Mr. Master was about to part some choice words with the smirking Asian when his companions began leaping onto the deck with less than hidden urgency.

"Time to go!" Lita gave worried smile. "They're mounting another push."

"Yeah dude! Push off, shove off, cast off, or whatever the fucking nautical term is," the hulking lad strode over to the starboard side, the ship creaking treacherously to his passing.

"I'm sure you can tell them everything once we're safe out at sea," Tangmo said with sickening politeness, to which Mr. Master respond with a blistering glare before he stomped away toward the bridge.

"I'll get you for this," he promised darkly before disappearing into the cockpit interior, slamming the iron door shut behind him.

"Yeah, haven't heard that one before," Tangmo rolled his eyes as the revving of engines hummed through the deck. The ship lurched forward with a sudden jolt, the bow tilting upward as the ancient craft shot away from the wharf, the burning vista of Mercy Fall receding quickly from sight. The unexpected speed threw Eleanor to the floor, with Elizabeth landing on top of her.

"Oh come on!" Eleanor cried and shoved Elizabeth to the side.

"Now you know how it feels," Elizabeth huffed and pushed herself up.

"Please, I'm not that heavy."

Elizabeth was about to shot back when Tangmo stepped into their crossfire, offering both helping hands.

"I think it's time all of you meet the rest of the team," he said and waved over Brigid and Sally to join them while his friends made a loose line in front of the rail, talking and fidgeting with their gears. Eleanor was surprised by how young they all were, late teen for sure, barely an adult.

"You already met Henry, the six star general," the black man gave a crisp salute, before smiling his infectious smile and offered them all a pleasant handshake.

"The big guy here is Damien, our heavy weapon specialist and tank," he shook their hands firmly but became sickly bashful when Elizabeth stood before him. After a moment of spluttering incoherently, the big man was dragged back in line, his friends mercilessly teasing him all the way.

"These two here are Nikki and Erik," Tangmo waved at the next two, the man from atop the bridge and the woman that had accompanied Henry, both sporting long blonde hair. "The best damn scout and sniper in all the multiverses."

"I'm the best sniper by the way," Erik lifted his hand.

"Sure you are," Nikki elbowed him.

"Next is Lita, the techno wizard of the group," Tangmo continued.

"Hi!" Lita gave an energetic wave.

"Lastly we have Yuki, the spec ops, ninja, and assassin extraordinaire."

"How do you do," the Asian girl gave a crisp bow.

"So do you guys have like, a superhero team name?" Sally perked up and they chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Something like…the League of Extraordinary Soldiers maybe?"

"We just refer to ourselves as the Eight," Erik answered.

"So all of you work for Mr. Master, yes?" Brigid asked.

"Something like that," Yuki said.

"But how could he have managed such an undertaking without someone taking notice?"

"I think you can ask him that yourself."

Yuki pointed toward the bridge. Turning, Eleanor saw Mr. Master, his usual brimming face now dampened by a frown, eyes trained on the ground and away from her accusing gaze.

"I believe," he began after a moment, "I owe the four of you a little explanation for what is happening."

When none of them response to his attempt at supplication, Mr. Master gave a surrendering sigh and waved them into the bridge without a word. Eleanor and Elizabeth traded a look before striding into the sparse interior, doing little to hide their rising frustration.

Once Brigid and Sally were inside the captain gently shut the rusty door, the Eights hooting their less than sincere encouragement.

Back hunched, Mr. Master meekly met their eyes and said:

"Welp, where to begin…" 

* * *

"How could you lie to us like this?!"

"Ouch."

Tangmo couldn't help but cringed at the outpouring discontent booming from the bridge, shaded silhouettes of Elizabeth and Eleanor darted across the muck stained window like an angry puppet show, their dissatisfaction punctured by the Master timid input. The keeper of the multiverse accepting the Bioshock lambs barrages of admonition with somber surrender.

"Holy shit, they're going all out," Damien observed.

"All for the best I suppose," Tangmo took off his cap and wiped his glistening forehead. "They deserved the truth. Still, it's better than watching them going at each other throats."

"Yeah, what was that all about?" Erik inquired. "From what the Master told us, I kinda thought they were really chummy with each other."

"They were," Tangmo continued. "But when we got to the hotel they started arguing. Things got really out of hand dude. Elizabeth was telling Eleanor to kill her own mum, then Eleanor shot back and said that Elizabeth will never understand what a family is because she drowned Booker."

"Jesus…" Henry was taken aback.

"Eleanor tried to apologize but Elizabeth turned the cold shoulder. Since then, they've been rather bitchy to each other."

"I don't blame Elizabeth for being angry," Damien crossed his meaty arms. "If someone says that kinda crap to me I'd be pissed too."

"Eleanor was really sorry though," Tangmo shot Damien a look. "Come on dude, I know your biased for Elizabeth but let's be fair now."

"Regardless, I think those two simply lacked the maturity to handle the disagreement in a collected manner," Henry shrugged.

"Dude, I'm pretty sure both of them are older than us," Erik brow rose. "If I remember correctly Eleanor is nineteen and Elizabeth is twenty one."

"Age is just a number bro," Henry continued.

"That's stupid man, those two survived their respective games with nothing but wits and skills," Damien gave his rebuttal. "Barring the DLC of course."

"Abilities and maturity are two vastly different things," Henry pressed on. "True, they're more than capable of persevering through adversity, but at the end of the day they're still children emotionally. Now, now before you start going full fanboy mode, hear me out. Both Elizabeth and Eleanor have been raised in isolation, with little to no interaction with other human being. When contact with another individual did happened, Delta and Booker for instance, it was under such extreme circumstances that it pretty much forces them to mature at an unnatural speed."

"Which makes them very capable of handling dire situation, but at the same time made them pretty inept when it comes to mundane interpersonal affairs," Tangmo finished Henry prognosis with a smile.

"This is all new to them," Henry waved toward the bridge. "Friendship, and all the good and bad that comes with it. Judging by how nasty they are to each other, I'm gonna guess this is the first time they got into an actual fight. They'll burn out soon when everything calmed down a little."

"I hope you're right," Damien said. "I hate seeing them fight like this, it's just not right man!"

"Friendship is delicate and fragile, like flower fresh out of winter," Erik concurred. "I hope they mend whatever wounds that came between them, a world can be a dark and lonely place without a companion."

"Preach brother," Henry said and held up a fist.

"Testified!" Tangmo mimic his movement.

"Ugh! I think I'm gonna be sick."

The four boys turn to the four girls standing across the deck; all looking rather vexed by their male counterpart blatant fawning over the two Bioshock lambs. It was Nikki who spoke, the Russian fixing up her platinum blonde hair into a high ponytail.

"Well yeah," Erik shrugged. "You're on a ship."

"Maybe it's something else that's making us queasy?" Yuki gave her input.

"Aww, don't be jealous we still love y'all!" Henry smirked.

"You should've see how Tangmo was around those two," Laura smiled evilly as Tangmo's eyes went wide. "It was nauseating. All skittish and blushing like Bashful from Snow White when Elizabeth thanked him."

"Dude! Shut up!" Tangmo bolted up from the crate he was sitting on, unwanted heat creeping up his cheeks.

"I'm really jealous right now, just so you know," Damien eyed Tangmo.

"Aww he's blushing! That's so sweet!" Lita pointed and said brightly.

"You're not helping!" Tangmo yelled and pulled up the collar of his commissar coat in a vain attempt to hide his reddening face.

"Chin up mate, we all know you're hopelessly mushy inside," Laura snickered.

"See Laura," Tangmo took a deep breath, lighter shade returning to his visage. "Now I'm gonna have to kick your ass. Here take my coat."

A loud 'Ohhh!' went up amongst the boys as Tangmo gave his coat to Erik, cracked his knuckles and stride toward the less than impressed Laura. Yuki however, stepped forward and blocked his way, arms folded across her Kevlar armored chest, looking mildly annoyed.

"That's not going to happen," Yuki said as Laura scooted behind her, trying to appear small and defenseless despite being a couple of inches taller than the Japanese. "So back off."

"Oh yeah, hide behind your wife," Tangmo spat. "Guess now I know who wears the pants in this relationship."

"And, he's dead."

Nikki said as Yuki and Laura pounced Tangmo before he could get his guards up. After a very brief scuffle Tangmo was flat on his face with Laura straddling him, forearm pressed on his neck and a knee digging into his spine, while Yuki twisted his right arm into a Kimura lock.

"Take. That. Back!" Laura growled.

"Apologize! Now!" Yuki gave his limb a hard wrench.

"So how was the wedding?" Tangmo grinned viciously, laughing at the two sirens of death. "Was it in the Scottish highland with everyone wearing tartan kilt, playing bagpipes and eating haggis? Or was it in a Shinto shrine with the silky white kimono under blossoming sakura trees? Argh! Fuck!"

Tangmo kicked and flailed as Yuki applied more pressure to his knotted arm, his wrist, elbow and shoulder felt like it was about the pop out from their sockets.

It would've taken only a second more for Yuki to break his arm, but a sudden metallic bang eased the pressure off. Sighing from the receding pain, Tangmo craned his head upward to see a scowling Elizabeth and Eleanor stomping onto the deck. They paused for a moment to gander at the peculiar sight before walking over to the rail and leaned tiredly on the aging wood, backs turn to them.

"Elizabeth…Eleanor…" the Master appeared through the doorway, looking uncharacteristically sorrowful. "I'm…"

"They need some time to themselves Herr Master," Dr. Tenenbaum appeared and laid a reassuring hand on his broad shoulder. "Despite the deception, they'll come to understand in time that what you did was in their best interest."

"Thanks Brigid, even if I don't see it that way," the Master nodded and cast her a rueful smile. He jolted backward when Sally jumped at him and wrapped her arms around his burly chest, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Thank you…" she stammered as the Master returned the embrace. "I knew it was you who saved me back then, I always knew. Thank you."

"You're welcome Sally," the Master said. "And I'm sorry I didn't recognize you when Jack's bathysphere came up, time displacement can cause that effect on people."

"It's okay," Sally sniffed and pulled away, wiping her eyes. "You know now."

It was then that the blonde finally noticed the altercation on the deck, her deep blue eyes widening as she took in the strange scene.

"Hi," Tangmo piped up and Sally gave a surprise squeak, her mind finally comprehending what was going on.

"Mein got!" Tenenbaum gasped while the Master just gazed at the prone Tangmo with mild satisfaction. "What has happened?"

"Nothing much doc, just a little disciplinary action for the little twerp here," Laura said brightly as she pressed her knee harder into Tangmo's back.

"Something that a little apology would rectify," Yuki leaned down and whispered into Tangmo's ear, her breathe hot against his cheek. "So what do you say Tangmo?"

"Are you going to be polite and behave from now on?" Laura added her caressing croon to the mix.

A few more seconds of futile wiggling later, Tangmo finally came to term with his inescapable position. Although stubborn to an aggravating degree, he was far from stupid, and seeing how it was Laura and Yuki threatening to turn him into a human pretzel, he should be happy that only his pride was getting bruise.

"Sorry…" Tangmo said lowly, his voice barely audible.

"What was that love? Didn't quite catch you there," Laura said innocently. "Maybe you should speak up."

"I said I'm sorry you fucking sadists!" Tangmo yelled and thrashed. "You happy?! Now let go, I can't feel my fucking arm!"

With a triumphant cackle, Laura pushed herself off Tangmo, but not before making sure her carapace knee left a deep indention on his back.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Yuki gave him a pat on the cheek before releasing the Kimura.

"Oh God, it hurts!" Tangmo cradled his arms and rolled around feebly. "Medic! Medic!"

"Calm down, I got you," Lita crouch beside him, rolled up his sleeve and applied a healing spray. Soothing sensation quickly rushed up his arm, hot blood returning to his veins and banished any lingering numbness.

"There! Good as new," Lita gave his arm a playful smack and got up. "Just be a little more careful, alright? Because I don't think they're gonna to be playing around next time."

"They weren't playing this time either," Tangmo rose to his feet. "Thanks Lita."

"Don't mention it," Lita offered him a smile when the Master gave a loud cough, drawing their attention.

"Alright boys and girls, listen up," he announced, the powerful baritone returning. "We got about three hours before we reach the Rapture lighthouse so keep your wits about you, we're not out of the woods yet."

With a silent nod, the Eight scattered and positioned themselves at various points around the old ship, weapons trained on the calm sea and the clear blue sky. 

* * *

Elizabeth watched the fight between Tangmo, Laura and Yuki with mild hilarity. Seeing the boy so thoroughly manhandled by two girls brought a much needed diversion from the day's accumulated stress. But beyond the comedic value however, Elizabeth found herself perplexed by what came after. Not one minute had passed after almost getting his arm broken, Tangmo was chatting and laughing with Laura and Yuki as if the fight didn't happened, going as far as joking about the scuffle.

She didn't understand. From what she could decipher, Tangmo must've said something that deeply offended the two, probably his insinuation about the Englishwoman orientation that he, quite unsubtly, hinted at. Those words must have be severe for Laura and Yuki to react in such a violent manner. But then, why were they so quick to let such insult slide? Weren't they angry? How can they forgive him so easily?

"They really don't know how to hold a grudge, do they?" Eleanor gave Elizabeth a sideway glance and she knew immediately what the younger woman was implying. A correct assumption all things considered, one that she will not rebuke.

"Lucky them," Elizabeth said resignedly, drawing a surprise look from Eleanor who had obviously expected a heated response. True, she could simply start another bout of argument, but in that moment she can't even conjured the will to fuel any rebuttal. All Elizabeth felt was weariness, such crushing weariness.

All the deaths, all the fights and what Mr. Master had told them. It was all too much.

"Uh-huh…" was all Eleanor said, herself looking as tired as Elizabeth was.

For the minutes that followed, neither parted words as they gaze across the calm ocean panorama. Behind them conversations bustled, relaxed and cheerful, the eight guardians going about their task in easy jovial stride.

"Look…Elizabeth…" Eleanor began after a moment but stopped when Elizabeth turned to look at her, flinching as if expecting a punch.

"Yes Eleanor?" Elizabeth said levelly, calming Eleanor somewhat.

"I'm…" Eleanor continued, sorrow taut her visage. "I'm sorry for what I said back at the hotel, about Booker. It was totally out of line and it was thoughtless, I should have known better and…I don't want to fight you anymore."

"I don't want to fight either," Elizabeth laid a comforting hand on Eleanor shoulder, the touch bringing a warm smile to both of their faces. "I know you didn't mean any of it, anger can bring out the worst in all of us and make us say the most hurtful things."

"I'm so sorry," Eleanor said weakly.

"I'm sorry too," Elizabeth gave a mournful sigh. "What I said about Sofia…it was unthinkable. I shouldn't have asked you to even contemplate something so horrendous, I was foolish and selfish. I'm sorry."

"Guess we both make mistakes."

"Can you forgive me? For what I said?"

"I should be the one asking that," Eleanor laughed lightly. "And yes, I forgive you Elizabeth."

"I forgive you too Eleanor."

"I also forgive you for calling me coward."

"And I also forgive you for calling me the center of the universe."

"And I forgive you for finishing off that last carton of Rocky Road last week and leaving none for me."

"…you knew about that?"

"Well you weren't exactly delicate in your appetite."

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth gave her a friendly chiding before both burst out laughing, with gusto and earnest, their fears, worries and weariness leaving with the twinkling joyful melody. It felt good to laugh with Eleanor again. Because in the end, no matter the amount of aggravation or insult they throw at each other, they were still friends, the door to forgiveness ever open and waiting.

Maybe that's why the Eight were so quick to brush aside disagreement, even physical one.

When their laughter came to an end, Elizabeth noticed that all was silent, only the whipping wind and lapping waves remained. Turning, Elizabeth and Eleanor saw Sally, Tenenbaum and the Eight looking at them. Sally and Tenenbaum were brimming with joy while the Eight, well the boys at least, all gave slow grinning nods.

"I guess none of you ever heard of privacy?" Eleanor gave a snarky comment.

"You're standing on the deck," Nikki said from atop the bridge. "It's not exactly a private place to begin with."

"Still, it's very impolite to be gawking at others like that," Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips. "It is a very indecent behavior unbefitting to that of gentlemen and ladies."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smirk as the boys squirmed from the scolding, bowing apologetically and mumbling 'sorry' as they trudge away and attempt to find something to occupy themselves with. Laura gave them a narrowing look before walking away, Yuki was unreadable as she followed the Brit, Lita just snickered and Nikki gave them a noncommittal shrug before returning her gaze eastward, Tangmo climbing up to join her.

"You got them in the palm of your hands," Eleanor said slyly.

"We got them in the palm of our hands," Elizabeth corrected her. "The boys that is."

"Oh, of course. The girls will take sometimes."

"Agreed." 

* * *

"Welp, Henry's right," Nikki spared a glance at the conversing Elizabeth and Eleanor, all chummy and laughing.

"Yes he is," Tangmo agreed. "He'll become a great psychologist one day."

"Or a politician."

"The thought of seeing Henry running the United State both excite and frightens me."

"Ha!" Nikki snorted and shifted her grip on the Dragunov. "That'll really be something to see."

"Can't argue with that," Tangmo rolled his arm, the one Yuki almost broke, and jabbed his finger downward. "You think those two will forgive him? The Master that is."

"Judging by how they're already friends again, I'm going to say yes."

"Yeah, but some people get kinda prissy when it comes to honesty. I mean I understand, truly, I like it better when people just give it to me straight, but I also recognize the necessity of omitting truth when the situation calls for it."

"That sounds like Aes Sedai talk."

"More like your standard Schola Progenium curriculum, but my point still stand. Can they really fault the Master for lying about this? Shit, it's not like they were going believe him if he came up and said: 'Hello! I'm a pan dimensional godlike being and I'm here to help you!'"

"I suppose not. Now, beside the actual argument about honesty and its selective uses, I believe Elizabeth and Eleanor possesses enough commonsense to see that they have no case against the Master to begin with. Christ, it's not like he pulled a Comstock or Sofia on them."

"Yeah I guess you're right," Tangmo paused for a moment before saying: "Did you just seriously compared me to those Aes Sedai bitches?"

"Well it did sounded like the same bullshit the Amyrlin Seat like to spew," Nikki shrugged. "Being cryptic and double speaking your ass out of anything resembling a truth. Doesn't the Imperial Commissar do the exact same thing?"

"That's an extra-heretical slander to the Commissariat, we're nothing like those sleazy sorceresses," Tangmo announced indignantly, assuming his commissar pose. "We never sugarcoat the truth, we either tell them or we don't. About to charge an enemy position? I tell them glory for the first men to die. An entire chapter of Night Lords just above the hill crest? I keep my mouth shut and lead them onward. Say anything you want about the commissar, but we don't lie through our teeth."

"And what if one of your men ask what was over the hill and far away?"

"I shoot him or her in the face."

"Yep, you're a thousand times better than Moiraine," Nikki rolled her eyes and turned back to the blue horizon. Suddenly she stiffened, solemnity setting in as she rushed over to the edge of the roof, staring like a hawk at the rippling Atlantic.

"What is it?" Tangmo shouldered his AA-12, striding over to where Nikki was crouching, her Dragunov sweeping the sea.

"You see something?" Tangmo asked again but was silenced by Nikki sharp shush. Looking down his iron sight, he found nothing out of the ordinary. The sea was calm and the breeze gentle, nothing but serene emptiness surrounded them.

Yet he knew Nikki.

The Russian girl possessed a sixth sense when it comes to danger, being able to sense an approaching calamity minutes before it occurs. It's not like she can see the future though, more like a Spider Sense, a sudden tingling that say everything was about to get fucked.

Nikki seemed more tense that usual this time too, which made Tangmo that much more nervous.

"Oh shit," Nikki cursed, eyes fixed unblinking on the ocean before her. It took Tangmo a few seconds more to see the patch of unnatural light shining through the shimmering green surface about fifty yards directly in front of the ship, the Atlantic bulging upward as what appeared to be a circular pod, like the one at the end of Bioshock 2, breached the waves.

"Brace! Brace!" Nikki warning came too late as the ship slammed head first into the escape pod, the vessel gave a painful wail of splintered woods and snapping iron as it reared up like a leaping whale, the bow rising to graze the sky like when the Titanic was about to break in half. Clinging on for dear life, Tangmo gritted his teeth as the ship tilted downward and fell with a jarring boom, high pitched screaming sounded from the deck below.

"You okay?" Tangmo turned to the dazed, but otherwise unperturbed Nikki who gave him a quick nod.

"Yo, is everyone down there okay?" Tangmo peered down the deck, the ship reclining at a sharp angle to the left. Grumpy groans answered him but his friends were okay. Damien and Henry rushing to help Elizabeth and Eleanor while Yuki and Lita went to the aid of Tenenbaum and Sally. Taking point at both end of the ship, Erik and Laura surveyed the damages.

"I think the hull is still good," Erik leaned over the railing. "More or less…"

"What the fuck did we just hit?!" Laura glared at the offending obstruction that had beached them in the middle of the ocean.

"It's one of those escape pod thing Eleanor came up in," Tangmo said.

"We're not anywhere near the Rapture lighthouse, how did it got here?" Laura shot back.

"We have another problem guys, look!"

Following Erik stabbing finger, Tangmo looked across the sea and found himself groaning, somewhat annoyed as more spherical objects of metallic making bobbed up to the surface. It was kinda nostalgic all things considered, to see the bad ending of the first Bioshock game replayed to him in real time, the one you got when you murdered all the Little Sisters.

The only detail that bugged him was the fact he and everyone onboard the Master's ship was about to meet the same fate as that nuclear sub, which mostly involve splicers hacking them all to pieces.

"Guys!" The Master burst through the bridge's door. "We have a big problem!"

"You don't say," Yuki said snidely as she drew her pistols, twirling them around her fingers like a cowgirl.

"There's a safe room below deck, you four better get down there quick," Lita waved over the noncombatants, Tenenbaum and Sally complying without question.

But once again, Elizabeth and Eleanor refused to budge. Goddamn it.

"Guys, we really have to go," Lita urged on politely. "Like, right now."

"Don't even bother love, they're not going anywhere," Laura shook her head.

"Okay then…" Lita stood still for a moment before waving at Damien. "Come and help me with the ammos."

"Right behind you," Damien nodded and followed Lita down below.

"Not gonna lie bro, this look pretty bad," Henry glance up at Tangmo.

"We've weathered worst storm than this my friend," Tangmo said confidently as Lita and Damien reappeared, the big Canadian hefting two coffin size ammo crates on each shoulders like it was nothing. Lita on the other hand, was doing the sisterly thing and cheering him on with near endless perkiness.

"Get'em while they're hot!" Damien tossed the crates down and flipped it open, the glittering mass of ammo and weaponry shone like gold in the sun.

Tangmo and Nikki quickly leapt down to join the other as they clamor around the two coffins, digging into the clanking piles of guns and bullets like ravenous Chinese tourists at a seafood buffet in Bangkok.

Tangmo was stuffing his ammo pouches with extra AA-12 drums and Bolt pistol sickle magazines when he noticed Yuki quickly prepping Elizabeth and Eleanor for the upcoming fight.

"Here, put these on, it's the smallest size we got," she handed them two black Kevlar vests; the Bioshock lambs quickly slid the armor over their head.

"It's a little loose around the waist," Elizabeth awkwardly reached for the vest straps and gave it a few tugs, frowning when the Kevlar still didn't quite fit her slim form.

"Here, let me help," Eleanor spun Elizabeth around and grabbed hold of the dangling belts.

"Make sure it's nice and tight," Yuki instruction was answered by Elizabeth sharp gasp as Eleanor pulled on the straps.

"Too tight! Too tight!" Elizabeth squeaked, her cheeks turning red.

"Sorry!" Eleanor loosened the bidding and readjusted the tightness until Elizabeth face turned a healthier shade.

"Better?" Eleanor gave an apologetic smile.

"A lot better, thanks," Elizabeth glanced down at the black Kevlar. "How do I look?"

Eleanor brow rose by a small margin, "you're asking me? You know I'm the last person to turn to for fashion advice."

"I know I'm not going on a runway Eleanor," Elizabeth chuckled. "I just want to know what my friend think."

"You look great Elizabeth," Eleanor nodded with a smile.

"Thanks. I think this look a lot better on you though."

"You really think so?" Eleanor blushed.

"Trust me, I know these thing," Elizabeth gave her a wink.

"Oi! Does this look like a fooking H&M store to you? Enough with the bloody chit chat and get your arses suited up!" Laura bellowed at the two heroines before spinning to glare at the boys, her Sororitas flamer lit. "And you four! Get back to work and stop ogling! I'm not swimming with the fishes because of these trollops!"

"Excuse me?!" Elizabeth blistered as the boys scattered to the wind.

"Get them armed please Yuki," Laura waved impatiently.

"Manners Laura, play nice now," Yuki gave a stern look. "Please?"

"Ugh! Fine!" Laura huffed and stomped off to the starboard railing.

"Laura might be a little hotheaded, but she's actually really nice once you get to know her," Elizabeth and Eleanor shared an unconvinced look as Yuki picked up their arsenals.

"Since you're smaller and less athletically attuned," Elizabeth gave Yuki a sour pout. "MP7A1. Light, compact and packed one hell of a punch. There's only twenty round so don't waste ammo; treat it like a pistol, not a machine gun. Aim, then fire. Got it?"

"Yes, thank you," Elizabeth nodded as Yuki handed Eleanor her gear.

"You get the classic, HK G36," Eleanor eyed the assault rifle with sparkling interest, hand absentmindedly caressing the polished barrels and stock.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth hissed.

"What? It looks nice!" Eleanor blurted a sheepish response.

"I know right?" Yuki smiled. "Anyway, like I said before, conserve your ammo and take the shot when you're absolutely sure."

"Right," Eleanor nodded.

"What happened to not being comfortable with guns?" Tangmo raised a snarky brow.

"I'm flexible," Eleanor grinned.

"Everybody set?" Henry pushed one of the ammo creates toward the port side while Damien kicked the other to the starboard.

"As a last stand goes? Yeah, I think we're ready," Tangmo slammed a drum into his trusty AA-12, the magazine filled with the Menazoid Barb rounds straight out of the Gaunt's Ghost books.

"Wonder what they're waiting for," Erik mused, shouldering his modified, scope-less AC-566.

"The dramatic moment to attack," Tangmo answered. "This is gonna be like the ambush at Whiskey Outpost from the first Starship Trooper."

"Too bad Denise Richards isn't going to swoop down and bail our asses out of this one," Yuki reached into the weapon cache and withdrew her trademark katana and wakizashi, earning a confuse glance from Elizabeth and Eleanor as she tied them around her waist.

"That doesn't look…practical." Elizabeth observed guardedly.

"And a giant spinning drill is?" Yuki gave a playful retort.

"Good point."

"Trust me, when things get ugly and personal, this will be the difference between life and death."

"Ready love?" Laura strode over and wrapped a gentle arm around Yuki's shoulder, drawing the Japanese closer.

"I am. You?" Yuki's gloved palm reached up and gave Laura's gauntlet knuckles a light squeeze, the contact eliciting a soft smile from the Briton.

"I got your back," Laura nodded as Yuki glanced up with a warm grin of her own, both staring deep into each other's eyes.

All the while Elizabeth and Eleanor just gaped at the unfolding display of close, almost affectionate camaraderie. Noticing the lambs, Yuki and Laura shot them a hard glare.

"What?" Both demanded at the same time.

"Nothing!" Elizabeth waved them off with a nervous smile.

From somewhere down the deck, Tangmo pulled up his high collar and stifled a laugh, praying to all the gods by name that Yuki and Laura didn't hear his soft snickers.

"Don't let them see that," Henry warned as he walked up beside Tangmo.

"I'm trying my best," Tangmo smirked and rolled his shoulders. "I only have so many limbs to spare."

"They can make it last."

"I don't doubt it."

"Any idea on how we're gonna get out of this?"

"We need to be back in the water. We can't defend ourselves on a tipping boat with every guns pointing at us from every direction."

"Agreed. Hey Damien!" The Canadian answered his summon, taking wide gait toward Tangmo and Henry.

"Wassup?"

"Dude, you think you can sink that thing from the inside out?" Henry pointed at the escape pod.

"Yeah, no problem," Damien nodded and unslung his Minigun, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor, rolled his stacked, corded shoulders and took out a bulging satchel from the ammo cache.

"Think that's enough?" Tangmo asked.

"Melta charges bro, you know what these things can do," Damien slung the satchel over his broad chest and checked the ammo of his berretta, sliding out the magazine and slamming it back in before holstering it. The gun looked comically small in his large hands.

"Just remember to haul my ass back up when I'm done," Damien walked toward the rail.

"Whoa, wait, you're going down there with just a pistol?" Henry started in surprise.

"Umm…yeah?" Damien regarded Henry with a quizzical look, one leg already swung over the railing.

"Shouldn't you, I don't know, pack something with a little more heat?"

"I got these," Damien held up his fists proudly, giving the air a few good jabs. "A good punch is worth more than a gun in tight spaces like that."

"And a ceramite plate over your chest certainly helps," Tangmo gave the armor a quick tap. "Just remember to use your knees and elbows too."

"Oh right, kick boxing, I'll keep that in mind."

"It's Muay Thai you uncultured swine," Tangmo sneered as Damien prepared to jump down on the escape pod when a loud, muffled boom reverberate across the sea, far but pronounced like distant thunder. Turning to where the sound emanated, Tangmo leaned over the railing and squinted toward the west where, a few kilometers away, the sea simmered and frothed, sending halo of rippling waves toward them.

The rumbling calmed to a steady hum, long and uninterrupted until the unmistakable screech of stuttering static began its ripping cadence. High above the ocean the clear cerulean sky began to bend and contort, clear symmetric shape protruding out of the empty air like some great beast moments from breaching a translucent surface, the very fabric of reality shuddered to the unnatural intrusion.

Blinding white glare shone through the first ruptured slit, widening until it encompassed the world completely. Tangmo cursed and closed his eyes, shielding it with his hand. Even then the bright light managed to seep through his eyelids.

When normal illumination returned, Tangmo blinked his vision back into focus and gaze up upward. And felt his jaw dropping to the floor. Hovering proudly above them and bloating out the sky was a flying fortress the size of a Helicarrier, smaller gunships buzzed around it like swarms of bees and wasps.

It took a moment, but Tangmo finally recognized the thing as Comstock flagship. So that's what it looked like?

Huh.

In all honesty, Tangmo never took notice of the late game aesthetic because so much shit was happening; especially the final stage where you had to constantly jump from one rail to another while trying not to get shot.

Goddamn that part of Infinite was tedious as fuck.

"Okay dude, I'll admit," Erik strolled up to his side. "That was really cool."

"I know right?" Tangmo agreed enthusiastically. "It's like a cross between the Predator uncloaking and that alien ship in ID4."

"You know there's new one coming out next year right?" Damien said.

"Shit's gonna suck, Will Smith isn't even in it," Henry frowned when a microphone crackle blared from the flagship. Momentary electrical distortion gave way to a melodious, and admittedly very sexy, feminine evil laughter. Like back at the town, the sound echoed loudly from every direction, amplified like a concert hall.

"You poor, deluded fools," Columbia crooned sweetly and Tangmo couldn't believe how hot it sounded. "Did you think you can run from me?"

The door to the bridge slammed opened suddenly, causing everyone to jump as the Master bounded hurriedly toward Tangmo, a very plain look loudspeaker thrust toward him.

"Are you serious man?" Tangmo took the megaphone with clear disbelief.

"Some part of the hull got damaged. I need to fix it before we get back in the water," the Master said quickly before darting into the ship interior. "Keep her distracted."

"With this piece of shit?" Tangmo shook his head and raised the loudspeaker to his mouth.

"Hello? Whoa!" Tangmo couldn't contain his surprise, his crisp voice boomed from the petite instrument and rose in timbre to match Columbia's acoustic. He didn't know how the Master did it, but if he was to make an educated guess it was probably some form of reality manipulation that magnified the sound.

"Holy shit, this is so cool!" Tangmo spoke into the megaphone and began prancing around the deck like it was a WWE ring. He then raised his finger at Columbia flagship and said:

"To answer your question lady…yes. We totally thought we were going to get away with it."


	15. This is (not) The End

"Ah, lord commissar Tangmo, how nice to see you still among the living," Columbia voice was soft like the finest velvet silk, the honeyed tone diabolically seductive and with a more than enough hint of flirting in every enunciation.

Damn it, why did the bad girl have to be so freaking hot?

With herculean effort, Tangmo forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He had to keep the crazy doppelganger distracted while the Master patches up the ship, or else she's gonna turn them all into shark food and take away Elizabeth and Eleanor to do, presumably, less than pleasant things to them.

"Just Tangmo will be enough," Tangmo spoke into the megaphone.

"Oh, getting a little intimate are we?" Columbia went on playfully.

"Cut the crap woman, what do you want?"

"Straight to the point as always, I like that in a man."

"Still waiting for an answer here Evil-Beth."

"That's lady Columbia to you!" The doppelganger raised her voice and Tangmo couldn't help but grinned. His dickish charm was quickly having its grating effect. Around him, the Eight were giving their hooting encouragement while Elizabeth and Eleanor seemed to be enjoying the banter.

"Yeah I don't care," Tangmo said. "Look, would you just answer the question already?"

"I think you know exactly what I want," Columbia continued with a hint of agitation.

"See, you don't start a negotiation by pulling something that stupid out of your ass woman."

"I'm sorry, but I think you misunderstood something, when did I say this was a negotiation? My dear Tangmo I'm making demands, and you are not in a position to do anything but except my terms."

"Listen here Eliza-Bitch…"

"It's Columbia!"

"Whatever. Anyway, here's my counter demand since we're obviously not going to be civil with each other. Pull your fucking goons back to whatever afterlife shit hole y'all spawned from or we're gonna send them all to hell instead."

"Don't make me laugh, your little war machine are nowhere in the vicinity. You're outnumbered, outgunned and outclassed. With just a snap of my fingers you'll be dead within the minute."

"Okay, but before you do that, I'm gonna have to ask you to pick up your binocular and trained it on the deck, right here. Give them a little wave boys and girls!"

The Eight whooped and cheered loudly, pumping their fists and corna into the air.

"There's what, eight of you now? What difference does it make?" Columbia sneered.

"Oh no! Looks like coming back from the dead gave you brain damage," Tangmo laughed into the megaphone. "It's okay you poor, poor thing, let me remind you what happened earlier. Me and Laura, two people, managed to put your little army down for the count. Now imagine what all of us can do. Can you comprehend what kind of hell we can raise woman? Can you?!"

"No, I honestly can't. All I see is a bunch of tenacious hooligans too imbecilic to recognize when they're at wits end."

"Wits end? Oh okay, sure! Hey Erik, Nikki, show little Ms. Columbia here how we defines wits end."

With quick, trained steps, Erik and Nikki bounded up the roof of the bridge, got down on one knee and took aim at the flagship.

"Evil Elizabeth is standing right on the bow Tangmo," Nikki turned the elevation and wind dial on her scope. "I got her in sight, do I take the shot?"

"Master, how's the repair coming?" Tangmo strode over to the stairs leading down into the hull, his palm over the megaphone mouthpiece.

"Uh…" The Master began. "Ten minutes at least."

Fuck, even if Nikki managed to put a round between Columbia's eyes they were still beached on this goddamned escape pod thingy. Not to mention that the Bioshock goons will probably dogpile them once their leader got sniped. More talking it is then.

Unless…

"Are there guards standing around her?" Tangmo squinted up at the floating fortress.

"Yeah, two on either side, dapper looking bastards," Nikki looked through her scope.

"Take them out."

"With pleasure," Nikki coiled her finger around the trigger and braced the wooden stock. "Hey Erik, sure you don't need any attachment for this? It's pretty far."

"Nope, I got this," Erik looked down his iron sight and took a deep, long breath. "On the count of three?"

"Okay. On my mark. One, two, three…"

The two sniper rifle went off at the exact moment, bright muzzle flashes and stereo booms disorienting Tangmo for a couple of seconds, sight and sound scrambling to find equilibrium.

"What did you just…Ahhh!" Columbia's squeal was accompanied by two bodies tumbling through the air, flailing like discarded puppets before hitting the ocean with a brilliant splash.

"How's that for wits end bitch!" Tangmo roared into the megaphone.

"You little bastard!" Columbia screamed. "You tried to shoot me! We were in the middle of a parley you uncultured savage!"

"But I didn't shoot you, did I? I mean I totally can, but I didn't. Instead I killed those two jackasses instead."

"They had families! William had an ailing sister whom he took care of and John was a widower with three small children. And you orphaned those poor souls! Does human lives means so little to you?!"

"Bitch, I don't give a fuck! I killed two people? Boo-frickety-hoo! You just wasted an entire town, so shove that sanctimonious crap up your ass."

"Not everyone is equal, some are worth more than others."

"Thank you! At least we can agree on that, this is progress right?"

"Yet it seems our measurement of that worth differs to an irrevocable degree."

"Sad, I know."

"Then I guess we no longer have anything to discuss."

"Why are you so hell-bent on getting your hands on Elizabeth and Eleanor? I mean, I get why you don't like them but what's so damn important about actually catching them? Wouldn't killing them be enough?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Okay, now I'm curious. What? Are you gonna torture them? Chop them up into tiny pieces? Are you lonely or something? Making a harem? I'm totally cool with that by the way, so I won't judge."

"You disgusting little Sodomite!"

"Sorry, I don't listen to thrash metal."

"You know what? I think I'll have you and your friends joining Elizabeth and Eleanor in captivity. You have my word that your stay will last for a painfully long time."

"Oh my!" Tangmo did his best George Takei impression, getting five thumps up out of eight.

"And I'll have a special room prepared just for you," Columbia voice was maliciously indulging. "Daisy would be ecstatic with the chance to get more acquainted."

"Yo, I'm totally down for some interracial action."

"Good. But I doubt she would be anything but hospitable."

"Kinky."

"So do you want to this to end pleasantly? Or do you prefer the messier alternative?"

"Give me a minute to decide, please hold," Tangmo lowered the megaphone and addressed the Master. "Are you done yet?"

"Wait, wait, wait! Just one more screw loose," the Master gave wrenching grunt, followed by a satisfied whistle. "Okay that's everything, we're ready to cast off."

"Finally!" Tangmo pressed the loudspeaker to his lips. "Yeah I got an answer: GO FUCK YOURSELF! Lita, do the honor please."

"Roger that!" Lita gave a mock salute and shouldered her pristine white futuristic looking gun, rectangular in shape with neon blue trim that gave a pleasant glow. It looked like something out of Mass Effect but Tangmo didn't recognized it.

"What is that?" Tangmo eyed the weapon.

"You remember Red Alert 2?" Lita grinned and took aim.

"Yeah, best RTS ever made."

"Remember the Allies Prism Tank?"

"…You miniaturized the cannon, didn't you?"

"Guilty as charged. Now watch this, its super cool."

Lita pulled the trigger and blazing blue light shot forth from the sizzling barrels, the line of burning energy, curved slightly by the earth gravitational pull, streaked into the sky like a comet. The beam struck the hull in a brilliant explosion but the damage didn't stop there. After striking home, the shinning blue lance splintered into smaller lines, about seven in all, ricocheting off the flagship's belly, sending ripples of fire in its wake, the flying fortress groaned like an injured beast.

By the time the prism charge exhausted its energy, the flagship was aflame in several places, blazing debris drifting like snow into the Atlantic.

"Kill them! Kill them!" Columbia furious screeching was answered by the rushing boom of gunning engines, hundreds of flying gunship turning with a single-minded uniformity toward the Master stricken ship.

Around them, the many bobbing escape pods and bathyspheres began to shudder, followed by hisses of compressed air and scraping of rusted iron, gleeful bestial shrieks echoed from within.

"No pity! No remorse! No fear!" Tangmo bellowed into the loudspeaker before throwing it away, rushing to join Henry, Elizabeth and Eleanor on the starboard rail.

"So, can I go now?" Damien pointed to the huge pod below them.

"Take those bitches to Suplex City dude!" Tangmo fist pumped the Canadian.

"Bet on it!" Damien leapt on to the escape pod and charge an unlucky Rapture security personnel who had climbed out of the entry chute, giving him a spear that would've made Bill Goldberg proud. The lowly Bioshock enemy was tackled to the ground, his head and back bounced hard off the thick iron surface and went still.

"You're letting him go alone?!" Elizabeth shot Tangmo a worried look as Damien slid into the open hatch.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine," Tangmo waved her off and pointed toward the ocean. "But you might want to pay attention to these other assholes though."

Elizabeth steadied her gun and took aim just as a bathysphere's hatch flew open, and from it poured splicers by the dozen. Tangmo couldn't help but felt a shivering revulsion needling across his body, the way those jacked up mutant moved were very arachnoid-like. He fucking hates spiders.

With inhuman agility, the splicers began leaping from one buoying pod to another, gliding and landing with feral grace before bounding to the next floatation, their mad cackles rippled across the waves.

The spider splicers variant, however, were able to soar through the air further than the rest, crossing over two, sometime three, pods at a time. Now, it didn't take a genius to figure out that if these jumpy bastards got aboard then everyone's fucked.

A gunshot and a high pitched squeal sounded beside Tangmo. Turning, he saw Elizabeth flat on her ass.

"You okay?" Tangmo asked as he discharged his AA-12 into the thickening crowd of splicers, turning many of them into tiny pieces of shredded gibs.

"I didn't expect the recoil to be that bad," Elizabeth got up and took aim again, but before she could pull the trigger Tangmo snatched the MP7A1 from her.

"Hey!" Tangmo ignored her protest and pulled a retractable stock from the MP7A1 butt.

"This should help," he snapped down the locks and handed it back to her. "Aim and fired, just like Yuki said."

Elizabeth hurriedly braced the gun and, with rising panic, unleashed a salvo of poorly aimed shot at a leaping spider splicer, its trajectory high and long. Tangmo was about to pop the smiling bastard with his Bolt pistol when Elizabeth finally hit the screaming junkie, the bullet shredded his throat and send him crashing into the waves.

"Good work, here," Tangmo tossed Elizabeth a fresh magazine and unload his AA-12 into the horde of jumping splicers. It wasn't long before the ocean ran red with blood and body parts, the Menazoid Barbs tearing the Rapture denizen apart in a spectacular display of mutilating butchery.

Beside him Henry was dishing out a more control, but by no less efficient killing, with his modified M4 carbine, every shot going clean into heads and hearts. Next to the American, Eleanor was displaying her lack of tact when handling an assault rifle, spraying wide barrages at the splicers. Most bullets missed but some did graze an arm or a leg. Her hit ratio was better than Elizabeth, but not by much.

"Goddamn it! Aim and fire!" Henry said as he reloaded.

"I am aiming!" Eleanor snapped as she slammed a new round into the HK.

"No you're not! You're just spraying shit all over the place, switch to burst goddamn it!"

"Switch to what?"

"Burst! The switch above the trigger!"

Eleanor glanced down, flicked the dial to the word 'burst' and began shooting again, the assault rifle now discharging its payload two rounds at a time.

"Okay, now this is better," Eleanor nodded.

"Look out!" Henry yelled as a spider splicer hurtled toward the rail, two meat hooks gleaming like talons, arching back for a swooping blow. Eleanor raised her right hand at the deranged mutant, stopping him midair and threw him at one of the escape pod, the very audible wet snap of bones could be heard through the metallic gong.

"I actually forgot you have plasmid power," Henry gave a sheepish grin.

"I try to be a little conservative with it," Eleanor said and glance at Elizabeth. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy!" Elizabeth respond quickly, her aims becoming a little better than XCOM recruits.

"Send them back to the abyss!" Tangmo plagiarized Gandalf and unleashed another hellish barrage onto the splicers rank, their bodies exploding in mist of scarlet gore, limbs twirling through the air, trailing glistering ribbon of crimson.

"Damn it Erik, stop taking my kill bro!" Henry spun and berates the sniper perched on the bridge roof.

"Too slow my friend," Erik cracked a smile and took another shot. "Beside, that was Nikki, not me."

"Whatever, I'm just gonna…" Henry blistered when more splicers dropped before he could even leveled his gun, Nikki evil anime laughter punctured the air as the American hurled a slew of insult at the chortling Russian.

Tangmo found himself joining in the mirth, letting out low rumbling laugh as he dispatched another wave of splicers. His manic laugh came to a stuttering stop when Elizabeth shot him a very disapproving look.

"Sorry," Tangmo said guiltily and composed himself, returning to his bloodletting with more professionalism. In that moment however, he wondered how Damien was doing. And should he have a rope ready when the Canadian reappear.

* * *

The damned escape pod was cramp, obviously designed for housing people of a more petite and delicate stature. But then again, Damien admits that he wasn't exactly small in frame. The hatch and corridor, though obviously spacious, was never meant to house someone of his size. And judging from the wide eyed Atlas guerrilla, they weren't expecting someone like him either.

A cruel smile carved up Damien lips as he stalked toward the frightened man fumbling for his revolver. Finally, a chance to get back at those assholes that hurt Elizabeth. Too bad he can't kill Fontaine personally.

"Stay back!" The man half whimpered half demanded as his jittery thump brought down the revolver's hammer.

"Die!" Damien bellowed and dashed at the man, moving fast despite his bulk. A shot went off as the Canadian wrapped his hand around the gun, the bullet missing his head by an arm span, and wrenched it free from the guerrilla's grasp. Shrieking, the man reached for his knife but Damien pulled him into a head clinch and gutted him with a knee to the sternum. The man let out a gurgling choke as Damien threw him against the wall, the metal bending from the jarring impact.

Hurried cries echoed down the hall, booming from behind an ornate double door. Quicken footsteps told Damien that there were probably a few dozen people inside that room. Cracking his knuckles, the bony pops loud in the enclosed space, Damien charged the golden trimmed door and rammed it open with his broad shoulder, the frames thrown from its hinges as he bulled inside, bodies and splinters flew across his vision.

The big Canadian skidded to a stop in the middle of a circular room, the floor was richly carpeted and many frivolous excesses decorated the wall. Ryan security people, Atlas guerrilla and a few Vox stood dumbfounded as they gawked at him, weapons hung forgotten in their hands. They were all armed with cudgels and knives, firearms were probably too risky and dangerous to use in a confined space like this.

Turning around, Damien saw five Vox left sprawling in his wake, flung aside and crushed under his foot like broken action figures.

Not wasting time, Damien drew his pistol and spun on his heel, bright flashes and rattling gunfire followed the berretta arching sweep, dropping the stunned Bioshock grunts before their senses return.

His pistol clinking empty, Damien threw it at a guerrilla and leapt at the surging mass rushing for him.

Reeling back his arm, Damien swung his fist at the nearest man, the punch send him flying into his comrades, stifling their charge as they quickly spread out to surround the Canadian. A woman lunge at him from the crowd, bowie knife glinted in her hand. Damien sidestepped and caught her neck in a clothesline, the woman's head bounced sickeningly off the carpeted floor as he bounded straight for the thickest throng of enemies, fists flying like a terrible hurricane.

The Bioshock grunts tried, the keyword here being tried, to stop Damien vicious advance. Batons and knives batted and scraped his armored form, the Canadian laughed at their paltry attempt as he swathed them aside, fists and elbows cracking jaws and crushing skulls, bodies flew like ragdolls into walls, ceiling and floor.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

"No! Please!" A Vox man tried to flee but Damien grabbed his leg and, with horrific ease, swung him like a hockey stick at a guerrilla, the battering crash of flesh and bone killing them both. Dropping the dead body, Damien then turned to face what remained of the escape pod occupants. Four men and a woman, all of them holding their weapons halfheartedly, all of them shaking as he stride toward them.

Expecting them to attack him one at a time, Damien was pleasantly surprised when the men charged him en masse, while the woman gingerly stepped away to the far wall. Damien tripped the first man, sending him careening to floor, dodged a sloppy swing of the second and third, then ducked the fourth flimsy right hook and propped him on his shoulder.

The man flailed as Damien jumped and angled himself downward to the side, pulling the struggling Vox head first into the ground in a perfect execution of the Death Valley Driver, the man's neck snapping from the impact. Rising to his knees, Damien angled himself away from a swinging baton, grabbed his attacker by the waist and swung himself behind the man, then lifted him backward into a brilliant German Suplex, the security guard landed with a satisfying crunch of the skull.

The first man he tripped barreled forward with a knife in hand, only to run straight into Damien flying knee, his head snapping backward grotesquely as he fell, lifeless, to the ground. The last man stood before Damien, looking about ready to piss himself, a lead pipe shaking in his hand. Squawking a pathetic war cry, he more or less stumbled into the Canadian waiting hand.

Pipe clanking to the ground, the man choked and spluttered as he tried to pry Damien meaty hand off his neck. Head shaking disappointedly, Damien lifted his victim off the ground, his head almost hitting the ceiling, and gave him a thunderous Chokeslam. He didn't know if he killed the man or not, but he sure as hell wasn't moving.

"Okay, enough screwing around, time to get to work…" Damien was finishing his sentence when a chair exploded over his back, splinters and dusts drifting down the front of his ceramite vest. He wasn't hurt, barely felt a thing actually, but he was surprised. Turning with a baffled look on his face, Damien found the last woman standing a few paces behind him, scared shitless, the broken remain of a wooden chair in her hands.

"Did you just hit me?!" Damien demanded and the woman squeaked, cowering from his broad form.

"I'm sorry!" She whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "I didn't…please don't kill me!"

Damien just sighed and waved her away, "get out of here, swim to the other escape pod or something because I'm going to blow this place up."

Not waiting for a respond Damien knelt down, unslung his satchel, place it on the floor and primed all the Melta charges, timing the detonation to one minute. Quick and simple. He was rising to his feet when a bullet bounced off his armored back, the ringing boom causing him to flinch. Then another bullet came, and another, Damien counted six shots before he heard the clicking of empty chamber. Furious, he spun to see the woman with a smoking revolver trained on him.

"You motherfucker!" Damien roared and lunge at the woman.

"No! Please! Don't!" The woman pleaded as Damien wrapped his arms around her neck.

"Should've aimed for the head you stupid bitch," Damien hissed as he twisted his grip and broke the woman's neck, her limp body dropped gracelessly to the floor. Wiping his hand, Damien quickly backtracked down the corridor and ascended to the surface. The battle was still going loud and strong, but thankfully the Rapture and Columbia horde haven't made any significant gains.

"Dude! Toss me a line!" Damien rushed toward the ship.

"Here!" Tangmo threw him a length of rope just as the Melta charges went off. The escape pod lurched upward then tilted painfully on its side, throwing Damien off balance as he leapt and grabbed the rope, quickly pulling himself up the old ship.

"I got you dude!" Tangmo grabbed his arm and pulled him aboard.

"Thanks," Damien quickly reached for his Minigun, slung the large ammo pack on his back and joined Tangmo on the starboard, the barrels spinning ready. He was about to press the trigger when he paused to gander at the sight before him.

A dozen sharks now infested the water, darting across the corpse strewn ocean. Sharks with what appeared to be laser beam on their heads, shooting red super-heated bolt at the startled splicers.

"Are those…" Damien began breathlessly. "Great White Sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads?"

"Fuck yeah!" Tangmo laughed and slapped Damien on the shoulder. "Elizabeth pulled these lots out of a Tear."

"I am both curious and mortified at the same time," Elizabeth cast them both unsure look.

"This is awesome dude!" Damien cheered. "I finally have frickin' sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads!"

"Don't get too happy just yet bro, go help Lita deal with the airships," Henry pointed to the middle of the deck where the spunky Mexican was firing her Prism cannon up into the sky with reckless impunity.

"Got it!" Damien strode up to Lita. "Hey, need some help?"

"Thanks, but I got this," Lita smiled as she fired another beam of ionized blue up into the sky. It struck an airship, tore it apart in a brilliant ball of fire, and spread out like webs of neon to hit other ships within range. The damage wasn't as spectacular but equally crippling, black plumes of smoke trailing the doomed crafts into the sea.

"Oh, okay, I can see that," Damien nodded, captivated by the light show above.

"Oi! Get your arse over here and help us!" Laura barked from the portside, hellpistol spewing superheated fire at the splicers. Beside her Yuki was gliding along the rail, her dual pistols flashing in synchronization with her graceful step, looking more like an elegant ballerina than a death dealer.

"Coming!" Damien hurried to Laura side, trained his Minigun over the rails and unleashed five thousands round of burning lead into the baying splicers. In a span of a minute the former residents of Rapture were reduced to little better than minced meat, bobbing over the lapping waves, waiting to be feasted upon by the sharks.

The humming of anti-grav engine coursed through the ship then, the deck seemingly rising higher by a couple of inches as the aging vessel began moving forward. The Eight and the Bioshock lambs cheered, but it was short lived as they came to a stop again after a whooping five seconds of uninterrupted movement.

"What the fuck bro?!" Damien shouted at the bridge where the Master suddenly emerged.

"The way's block, clear it!" He ordered before disappearing back into the cockpit.

"I'm on it," Tangmo held up his hand and sprinted toward the bow, drawing his Bolt pistol and slamming in the Kraken rounds. "Damien I need some help man."

"Give me a minute," Damien knelt beside the weapon cache, unslung the ammo pack from his back, discharged the long belt of standard round and replaced it with the red tipped armor piercing round. Sliding in the belt and attaching it to the Minigun, Damien pulled the pack over his back and rushed to join Tangmo.

"How are we looking?" Damien inquired as he stood beside the Thai.

"Shits just keep getting better and better," Tangmo groaned as more escape pods, bathyspheres and miniature submarines began breaching the surface, bobbing and huddling close together to form a thick clump of metal that barred the ship passage.

"Whiskey Outpost huh?" Damien said.

"This is looking more like the final day of Thermopylae," Tangmo scowled.

"Well, if it's gonna end like that, then I'm going out in a blaze like at Shiroyama."

"Right on brother."

They fists bumped and began clearing the obstruction, Kraken and armor piercing round tore into the undersea vessels, turning them inside out and sending what remains back to the sunless depth it came. It was a wasteful and tedious process, but what else can they do?

* * *

The ship trudged on sluggishly, making slow progress as more bathysphere bobbed to the surface. From its rusty hull came more splicers, leaping forth like some nightmare creature birthed from hell.

Elizabeth arms grew heavy as she dispatched another jumping splicer, her aim was getting better but weariness was quickly making itself known. The gun clicking empty, Elizabeth slid down behind the rail and eject the used magazine, reaching for a new one in the ammo cache beside her. Slamming in a fresh mag, Elizabeth rose and braced her sub machine gun, taking aim at the nearest splicer.

She fired, her shoulder more used to the buckling recoil but the accumulated fatigue was adding an extra pressure on her already sore muscles. The first shot went through the splicer's abdomen, but it didn't appear fazed by the wound. Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth fired five more rounds, four went wide and one managed to clip the knee before Henry took it out with a single shot to the head. Arms shaking and her breathing labored, the MP7A1 suddenly felt like it weighs a couple of hundred pounds.

"Easy there, easy," Henry jogged up to Elizabeth and placed a hand on her shoulder, easing her down until she was seated on the deck half buried in empty bullet cases, back braced against the railing.

"Stay down, I'll be back," Henry disappeared from view and Elizabeth let the gun slid from her hands, grimacing at the bleeding blisters now adorning her palms and fingers.

A moment later an equally haggard looking Eleanor dropped down beside her, casting an unhappy look at Henry.

"I can still fight…" Eleanor frowned and tried to rise, only to be gently, but firmly, deterred by Henry who pushed her back below the rail.

"You're both tired," Henry uttered the obvious, kneeling down beside them. "Take some time to catch a breath, you guys went above and beyond the call of duty out there, we really appreciate it. Now please, get some rest for God's sake."

"Thank you," Elizabeth smiled and red began shading Henry's cheek.

"Guess a break would be nice," Eleanor concurred.

"Hey Lita, you mind giving them a…" Henry was cut off midsentence when a bullet whizzed pass his head, knocking the double headed eagle cap from his scalp. Picking up the hat, Henry gave it a quick inspection before flipping it back on his head, snarling as he rose.

"You fucking sons of bitches!" Henry roared and began firing over the railing just as Lita came and crouched beside them.

"They knocked his hat off?" Lita said as she began digging through the ammo caches.

"Yeah," Eleanor said.

"Ha! No wonder he's pissed," Lita produced two plastic bottles in each hand and gave them to Elizabeth and Eleanor. They popped the cap open and drank deeply, unaware of how parched their throats were. The liquid was icy cool with a nice refreshing sweet tinge.

"This is really good," Elizabeth commented as she took another swig.

"Thanks, my own special brew," Lita grinned. "Fill to the brim with tasty nutrition and electrolytes."

"Got anymore?" Eleanor squeezed the last drop into her thirsty maw.

"We're in short supply at the moment, sorry," Lita got up and eyed the airships warily. "But I think that should be enough for now, so rest up."

Lita was bracing her energy weapon when a twinkling tune cut through the air, the whimsical high pitched notes an aberration in the raging battle. Elizabeth froze, the plastic bottle slipped from her fingers as ice snaked through her veins, the cold bitter and piercing.

"No…" Elizabeth paled as the familiar notes sounded again, clearer and louder. "No!"

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Don't let it scares you, be strong. Be strong."

"He's here…" Elizabeth mumbled as her hands shot up and clung to Eleanor like a babe holding on to her mother. "He's here..."

"Do hear that my dear Elizabeth?" Columbia voice boomed once again, dripping with venomous satisfaction.

Elizabeth sunk deeper into Eleanor arms, assailed by the memory of the monster that had kept her locked up in the tower and delivered her into the waiting hands of Comstock and his surgeons.

"He's been dying to see you again," Columbia continued. "So without further ado, Songbird, I believe it is time our little lambs finally come home."

A piercing avian shriek shattered the air and a large shape shot forth from Columbia's flagship, silhouetted against the blinding sun, wings spread out like some heavenly seraphim as it descended toward the obstructed ship.

"I won't let him take you," Eleanor lifted her rifle, taking aim at the looming shadowy shape above. Seeing her friend unwavering stance, Elizabeth took a deep breath and let go of Eleanor. Picking up her MP7A1, she gazed up to meet the approaching Songbird, the barrel of her sub machine gun trained on it.

"I have to be strong," Elizabeth said and turn to Eleanor. "He's not taking us."

"No he won't," Eleanor agreed, a grim smile cutting across her face. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

She could see Songbird clearly now, the immaculate design of his armor, the intricate system of wires and tubes that regulate the flow of chemicals and steam powering the man inside the suit, the leathery membranous span of his great wings, the gleaming talons and bright red eyes that glow with an identical intensity to that of a Big Daddy.

So close now. Soon he will be upon them, tearing this ship apart just like when she and Booker had order him to destroy the Vox gunships, so long ago it seemed. But she and Eleanor rather go down fighting than cower in fear.

With a screeching scream, Songbird dived straight for them, his imposing form growing larger and more pronounced with each passing second.

Songbird must've been less than a hundred yards from the ship, his stubby talons outstretched and brandished, when a horrid explosion tore his arm open, flame poured from the gaping laceration.

A terrible cry erupted from Songbird as he twisted and veered away from the ship, landing with a deafening crash on one of the miniature submarine, sending thick plumes of water into the air.

"Songbird!" Columbia cry of dismay was drowned out by the Eight exalted cheers as Songbird scrambled to get out of the water like a drowning puppy, clambering onto the submarine, his voice jagged with unspeakable agony.

"Holy shit, that was even more anti-climactic than the actual game!" Laura laughed as Elizabeth and Eleanor edged themselves carefully over the railing to get a better look. It took them a moment to realize that the splicers had ceased their assault.

Elizabeth gasped as she stared at the pitiful form of her former guardian. Songbird right arm was a smoldering mess, sinews and muscles of leather and wire shredded to pieces, oil leaking and staining the ocean, twitching metal cogs hissed and sparked with every movement. Upon closer inspection, however, Elizabeth was able to see that many parts of Songbird's wound appeared to be corroding and melting.

"Yeah! Get'em my frickin' sharks! Get'em!" Damien yelled as the laser sharks began circling the stricken Songbird, nipping at his body and firing their laser at him. The winged guardian moaned and tried vainly to swathe them away.

"Goddamned! Who shot him?" Yuki was beside Elizabeth, peering down at the squirming Songbird.

"Me!" Tangmo held up his Bolt pistol proudly.

"What did you shot him with? His arm is melting off," Yuki squinted her eyes.

"Hellfire round dude! Maximum damage! Maximum pain!"

"Songbird! Get up! Retreat! Fall back to me!" Columbia yelled exasperatedly, genuine worry seeping through.

"Yo, he ain't going no where!" Tangmo found the discard megaphone and bellowed into it.

"You let him go right now or I'll…!"

"Or what? Kill us? Haven't you been doing that for the pass thirty minutes already?"

"I'll skin you alive for this!"

"And just for that I'm gonna take his leg."

"No!"

"Wait! Stop!" Elizabeth dashed toward Tangmo and grabbed his arm, the Thai turned to her in surprise. Before he could speak, Elizabeth took the megaphone and said:

"Tell your men to back off and let us go."

Columbia scoffed, "I will do no such thing Elizabeth."

"Let us go or Songbird dies."

"You don't have the gall."

"I don't, but he does."

Taking the cue from Elizabeth, Tangmo leveled his repeating shotgun and fired around Songbird, the missed shots sending towers of foaming water skyward, drenching the cowering, terrified mechanical birdman.

"All right! All right!" Came Columbia panicked response.

"Give us a clear path through," Elizabeth pressed on firmly.

The doppelganger was silent but the obstructing vessels began drifting apart to form an avenue, wide enough for an easy passage.

"You got your way out," Columbia sneered. "Now let Songbird go right this instance."

"And you will not come after us," Elizabeth continued, raising her voice when Columbia didn't answered. "Give us your word!"

"Fine! I'll let you go!" Columbia spat before composing herself with a few dainty cough. "Songbird my dear, come to me."

Songbird whined a broken tune as he attempted to get back on his feet, only to slip and fall back into the sea, the laser sharks gleefully swarmed him as he struggled to stay afloat. The Eight laughing at his misery.

"She's not going to let us go," Eleanor said.

"I know," Elizabeth gave her a pleading look. "But what can we do?"

"This," Lita walked up to the rail with a new gun, wide barreled with a revolver like chambers that look big enough to house a grenade. The weapon gave a pop when Lita shot what appeared to be four discs on to Songbird's back, the birdman too busy trying to stay alive to notice.

"Oh you poor thing, here," Columbia worried croon was followed by the static ripping of reality as a Tear appeared before Songbird. Seeing his escape route, Songbird dog paddled with the skill of a five year old into the Tear.

"Oh you're safe, thank God you're safe," Columbia sobbed as she comforted Songbird.

"Dude, what are you waiting for?! Go already!" Erik pounded his fist on the bridge roof. The ship was lurching forward when Nikki leapt down to the deck and strode over to the near infinite weapon supply.

"Thanks for buying us some time," Nikki nodded at Elizabeth. "But you know Columbia's not gonna keep her promise, right?"

"I know…" Elizabeth let out weary sigh.

"Hey, don't sulk," Nikki withdrew a new weapon from the pile, a long rifle with deep purple neon trim. "You did good, don't worry about it alright?"

"Thank you," Elizabeth braved a smile as Nikki walked away.

"Goddamn it, why aren't we going any faster?" Damien bellowed as he propped a new, and extremely large, rocket launcher over his shoulder.

"Because I don't want to crash the ship again," came Mr. Master loud reply.

"I think it is prudent to offer my gratitude for returning Songbird to me," Columbia spoke up neutrally. "So…thank you."

"That's mighty neighborly of you Columbia," Tangmo said into the megaphone. "But, of course this maybe just me, but I have a feeling that things are about to go south. Like, deep south."

"Very perceptive my dear Tangmo," Columbia's sultry sass returns. "It is truly unfortunate, but I must insist that my demand be met. And since it is clear that you are unwilling to oblige, I'm afraid this is where the pleasantry ends. If it means anything, I am truly sorry for how things turn out."

"Well, we're not sorry about this," Tangmo nodded at Lita.

"Sorry about what? Ahhh!" A concussive bang erupted from Columbia's flagship, mushroom shape cloud bloomed from its deck as Songbird torturous screeched rented the air, followed by Columbia's mortified scream.

"Songbird! No, no, no baby stay with me, don't go to sleep," Columbia hummed a motherly tune, only for it to morph into a blistering yell. "Get the engineer you fools! Where are the goddamned mechanic!? Get them here now!"

A polite cough cut through Columbia frantic yelling. Sofia.

"I believe only one thing remains now," there was an ominous edge to the doctor's tone. "Die."

"We're ready," Tangmo shot back defiantly and tossed the megaphone away. "Yo Master, put the pedal to the metal dude!"

The ship bow titled upward as Mr. Master gunned the ship forward, around them splicers began popping out of the bathysphere, resuming their attack with renewed gusto. Gunfire erupted to meet them, cutting down leaping forms as the ship sped down the narrow avenue of undersea transportation.

Some escape pod tried to bar their way but Damien and Nikki quickly took care of them. The Canadian rocket launcher discharging hails of missiles across the ocean, turning the floating obstructions into burning gutted metal, while the Russian energy weapon send the rusty sphere bouncing across the waves, colliding and sinking other pods in its trajectory.

Just when the clutter of escape pods were becoming sparser, the ship suddenly slowed before coming to a dead stop.

"Oh for the love of…what now?!" Eleanor exclaimed and turned toward the bow where Damien and Nikki were dishing out a merciless barrage at what had surfaced to block them. Towers of water and fire shot high into the sky with each shuddering blast, yet the ship still didn't moved forward.

"Fuck!" Damien rushed back to the ammo caches to gather more rockets, Nikki quick at his heels.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth asked.

"A submarine, a God honest submarine," Nikki announced with no small amount of surprise. "Damned thing barely dented when we shot at it."

"Are you shitting me right now?!" Tangmo cursed when a violent scratching sound came from below, the ship trembled as the groans of bending metal and snapping wood grew louder.

"What the fuck?" Henry gave the deck a worried look.

"That…sounds like the ship being ripped apart," Erik said meekly when Mr. Master emerged from the bridge.

"The hull just got breached!" He bellowed.

"Well shit, time to break out the life vest people," Henry said, more annoyed than anything else.

"We're not sinking you idiot! The anti-grav engine is keeping us afloat," Mr. Master corrected him quickly. "But something is burrowing into the ship!"

"I got this," Yuki sprinted over to the stairs. "Lita, give me a hand."

"Roger that!" Lita nodded before turning to Nikki, her forefinger pointed upward. "You gonna be alright?"

"Oh yeah, of course," Nikki smirked and slammed a new glowing magazine into her energy rifle. "Stay safe okay?"

"Sure thing!" Smiling brightly, Lita followed Yuki below deck as the Japanese drew her sword, the blade rasping a haunting tune. Elizabeth could only rolled her eyes. What can a sword do against something like a Big Daddy? She didn't pondered long, however, as another wave of splicers came upon them.

"Hey! You think you can pull Godzilla out of a Tear?" Henry joked through the din.

Elizabeth shot him quizzical look, "God…what?"

* * *

The ship interior was dark and dank, the pungent salty odor thick and oppressive. Muted gunfire echoed above, a muffle distraction that Yuki phased out from her mind as she strode deeper into the ship's bowel, katana held at the ready.

"Hear anything?" Lita whispered behind her, prism cannon at the ready.

"Yeah, something's…crawling?" Yuki came to a stop and focused on the closing gloom. "What the hell?"

"It's getting louder…eek!" Lita squeaked and fired a low intensity burst into the darkness, the interior lit bright by the neon discharge. The beam charred the far wall, missing its target, but not before revealing a dozen gnarl shapes scampering away from the searing light; tall and bent, with a large diving helmet for a head.

"Big Sisters…" Yuki lips peeled back into a wicked smile, hungry canine flashing. "Get ready Lita."

"I'm always ready," Lita said enthusiastically as red glaring circles began glowing around them, bobbing in the black nimbus like some lost, angry soul.

Silence lasted for a good three seconds before a piercing shriek, distorted to an even higher note by the metal porthole, ruptured the corridor. Light bulbs exploded, plunging the world into absolutely blackness as swarm of red unblinking eyes darted toward them.

Burning blue light lanced through the dark, accompanying Yuki as she charged into the fray, the katana whispering its silvery song, flashing arc of folded steel bisecting the first Big Sister she came upon in half at the waist, thick layers of padded tunic and leather parting with frightening ease, spilling shower of crimson.

Hissing, the Big Sisters circled Yuki who calmly stood her ground, blood slicked blade lowered and ready at her side.

Exhaling, Yuki sidestepped a bolt of lightning, swathed away a careening fireball, danced around clawing hands and parried lunging surgical needles with masterful grace before going on the offensive.

Yuki's katana struck flesh and limbs with lithe precision, every swing and stab mortally wounding or crippling the Rapture mutant, their cries becoming less fearsome and more pitiful. Soon, no more than a handful of red porthole remained, wavering and stuttering in fearful hesitation. Suddenly, they all sprinted pass Yuki and dashed toward Lita, their metallic wails loud and boisterous.

"Yuki! Help!" Lita discharged rapid salvo at the advancing Big Sisters, some fell but many pressed onward.

"Lita hold on!" Sword braced on her hip, Yuki rushed to aid Lita, only to realize that the Big Sisters were ignoring the Mexican completely.

"You okay?" Yuki came to her side.

"They're heading up top!" Lita threw the overheated rifle away and drew her pistol.

"Shit!" Yuki cursed as sickly anorexic forms darted into the light above. Holding her katana high, Yuki and Lita ran after them.

* * *

"Look out!" Elizabeth barely heard Eleanor warning when an ice ball exploded next to her. Yelping, she spun around and saw seven emaciated shapes scrambling on to the deck, moving nimbly despite their limbs bending at an awkward angle.

Big Sisters.

Those Little Sisters left behind by Jack, now twisted into a grotesque abomination that existed only to serve Sofia Lamb. Shrieking in unison they bolted across the ship, fire and lightning splintered and scorched the deck as they fell upon the guardians like a pack of angry tiger. Two however, bounded straight for her and Eleanor.

A Big Sister leapt at Elizabeth and wringed its coarse hands around her neck, lifting the brunette effortlessly off her feet before sending torrents of electric bolts into her body, not powerful enough to kill but strong enough to set her nerves on fire. Elizabeth screamed, spasming violently from the shocking current before going limp.

"Elizabeth! No!" Eleanor roared, her voiced muffled and distant. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, she could see Eleanor locked in a violent struggle with another Big Sister, plasmids flaring as both rolled across the floor in a tumble of kicking legs and falling fists. Vaguely, Elizabeth felt herself being propped on to a shoulder, her glazed eyes staring down at an oxygen tank and iron lined boots.

Her senses suddenly returning, Elizabeth slammed her fists furiously on the Big Sister's brass helmet.

"Let me go!" Elizabeth demanded, knees and elbows bashing the metal surface to no avail. The Big Sister promptly ignored her feeble struggle, strode on to the railing and jumped into empty air. Elizabeth could only stare and held her breath as the rippling ocean rise up to meet them.

Something collided into the Big Sister midair, the powerful impact throwing Elizabeth off its shoulder and into the freezing water. Gasping a lungful of air, Elizabeth saw Eleanor beside her, head bobbing above the waves.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said and swam back to the ship.

"Don't mention it," Eleanor was about follow when the Big Sister she had tackled sprang above the surface and wrapped it's arms around her neck, dragging them both below.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth yelled and, without a second thought, dove after Eleanor.

Eyes darting frantically across the cold, murky depth, Elizabeth found Eleanor twisting and buckling to break free from the Big Sister deadly embrace. Ignoring the searing ache coursing through her tired body, Elizabeth kicked her legs and swam toward them, hands clawing to propel herself faster as Eleanor sank deeper.

After a herculean struggle, Eleanor managed to pry herself loose from the Big Sister and used her telekinesis to push it away before paddling quickly toward Elizabeth. Their fingertips were inches from touching when the Big Sister suddenly reappeared and, with a twisted cackle, rammed the sharpened needle into Eleanor's side.

Eleanor screamed, muffled but pronounced as bubbles plumed from her mouth, sickening red haze bloomed and thickened around her. The Big Sister was reeling its arm back for another stab when Eleanor spun around, face twisted in a snarl as ice began forming over her clenched fist, growing into a jagged shard. Teeth gritted, Eleanor thrust the icicle into the Big Sister porthole, the glass visor caving in upon impact, the icy white blade punching straight through the helmet.

The Big Sister convulsed and twitched before stilling, Eleanor wrenched her arm back and let the corpse sank from view with the ice sword still jammed in its head. Finally reaching her, Elizabeth grabbed Eleanor's hand and dragged her upward, but their ascension was slow and torturous. Lungs burning in breathless agony, Elizabeth swathed desperately at the shimmering surface above, shining mockingly out of reach, her vision blurry and slow as exhaustion slowly overwhelmed her.

Then she felt Eleanor hand slipping, the grip that was so firm before wavering in her grasp. Looking down with a start, Elizabeth saw Eleanor gazing up with a forlorn look in her eyes and mouthed three words:

"Let me go."

Elizabeth free hand shot down in response, wrapping tight around Eleanor wrist and began pulling her upward in panic desperation, head shaking in furious denial, refusing to abandon her friend even if it meant her own death.

Glancing down, Elizabeth saw Eleanor with a soft smile on her lips, one given in comfort before a farewell, a goodbye of the most absolute kind.

"I'm sorry," Eleanor mouthed when her eyes suddenly bulged, streaming bubbles parted shaky lips as her body contorted and thrashed in muted anguish. Then she went still. Eyelids fluttered close, mouth hanging agape in a frozen scream.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth shouted, yanking on the unresponsive Eleanor as frigid seawater rushed down her throat and flooded her lungs. Darkness creeping in on all side, Elizabeth sobbed as she cradled Eleanor's hand and waited for the end, ghostly coldness enveloping her like a chilly blanket.

But then she saw a gleaming slit just below Eleanor, a Tear, one last shinning beacon against the consuming blackness. It was big, unlike those she used to summon things through, but more like the one at the gunsmith shop back in Columbia.

It was a portal.

Reaching for it, Elizabeth concentrated and used what little strength she had left to pull at the glowing laceration. The Tear yielded with surprising ease. Elizabeth couldn't see what lies beyond the black maw, all she felt was how it drew her and Eleanor in like a whirlpool.

Elizabeth's consciousness was moment from surrendering to oblivion when her head bounced off a wet, but painfully hard floor. Sight returning, Elizabeth gasped and vomited seawater, shaking fiercely as she heaved liquid from her lungs. After a moment she was finally able to breathe, warm sweet air caressed her body like a lover embrace. Steadying herself Elizabeth rose to a sitting position, eyes scanning the flooded floor until it came upon a motionless form.

"Oh no…" Elizabeth scrambled on hands and knees toward Eleanor who laid sprawled on her back, eyes closed as if in sleep, chest unmoving.

"Eleanor?" Elizabeth grabbed her shoulders and began shaking, stiffened arms and shoulders sagging like a puppet without it's strings. Elizabeth shook her harder but still she wouldn't stir.

"Eleanor?! Eleanor!"


	16. A Little Doom and Gloom

"Wake up! Wake up!" Tears streaming down her face, Elizabeth ripped the Kevlar vest off Eleanor torso and began pumping the younger woman chest in quick, frantic rhythm. "Please Eleanor! Please wake up!"

Her sobbing plea did nothing to stir the unmoving Eleanor.

"Oh God…Please God…" Elizabeth pinched Eleanor's nose and pressed their lips together, blowing long gust of air into her lungs before pulling away to continue with the heart compression.

Nothing.

Minutes passed, Elizabeth alternating between mouth to mouth and heart massage, yet Eleanor remained cold and still.

"Don't leave me! Please Eleanor, wake up!" Desperation turning to frustration, Elizabeth clenched her fists and slammed them on Eleanor chest with every ounce of energy she could mustered. Bawling resignedly, Elizabeth barely registered the slow rise and fall of Eleanor returning breath, only noticing when the heaving quickened and a gurgling moan rumbled from her throat.

Gagging and convulsing, Eleanor flopped onto her side and threw up, spewing seawater across the steel floor, ejecting every last of drop of liquid from her lungs.

"Wha-what's going on?" Eleanor said groggily, dazed eyes focusing on Elizabeth. "What happened? I thought we were drowning and…"

The slap came fast and hard, the resounding smack echoed heavy in the air as Eleanor plopped gracelessly back to the ground, a fuming Elizabeth kneeling over her. Rubbing her burning red cheek, Eleanor was rising slowly when Elizabeth grabbed the collar of her shirt, yanking her upward roughly so that their eyes met.

"Elizabeth?" Eleanor wilted under her livid glare, lips trembling as words parted in fearful whimper. "What are you…?"

"Don't you ever dare do that to me again!" Elizabeth growled, hefting Eleanor closer.

"…Wha?"

"You were going to give up just like that?! After everything we've been through? You were ready to let it end like that?!"

Eleanor turned her gaze away when she spoke, so soft that Elizabeth could barely hear.

"I can't let someone else die for me again. Like father did. I…I just can't bear losing someone I care for again."

"And you think I can?" The vise of Elizabeth grip tightened. "Did you honestly think I can just let you die?!"

"Elizabeth, I…"

"Look at me!" Elizabeth screamed and Eleanor complied with a mournful sob, glimmering tears marring both their eyes.

"I'm sorry…" Eleanor sniffed, wet streaks cascading down her grimy face. "I'm so sorry."

Huffing sharp, angry breath, Elizabeth let go of Eleanor and reeled her arm back, palm spread wide like an unfurled fan. Whimpering, Eleanor shut her eyes and turned her cheek, neck stiffened as she waited for the slap to come, not daring to meet the brunette hateful glare.

The hand careened down and Eleanor flinched in morbid anticipation. But the slap never came. Crying, Elizabeth arms swooped down and wrapped Eleanor in a tight embrace, her wail broken and unrestrained.

"I-I can't…" Elizabeth shuddered as Eleanor returned the hug with equal strength. "I can't lose you too, not after Booker…not after everything that has happened…I can't…"

"I know…I know," Eleanor joined in her weeping. "I'm so sorry."

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Please."

"I promise Elizabeth."

"Thank you…"

They held on to each other for a long time, content in the warmth exuding between them, neither daring to let go, fearing that this precious moment will slip from corporeality. After sometime, when their sobbing had died down to a comfortable silence, a whine escaped Eleanor lips as she began fidgeting in Elizabeth grasp.

"Um…Elizabeth?" Eleanor began softly. "I think I'm still bleeding."

"Oh!" With a squeak Elizabeth let go off Eleanor, gasping at the copious sheen of hot crimson that adorned her side.

"Oh my God! Stay still Eleanor, I'll get some help," Elizabeth quickly rose to her feet, stumbling a little in haste.

"Where are we anyway?" Eleanor gave a quick glance around.

"I truly don't know," was all Elizabeth said as she finally took the opportunity to observe their surrounding. Obviously not Mercy Fall or Mr. Master's ship, the floor didn't lurched to the rolling waves and the air smelled strangely of stale neglect with just a lingering tinge of sterilization.

It took a moment for Elizabeth to realize that she was surrounded by mirroring rows of locker, with a long metallic bench running parallel its entire length. Eleanor was leaning awkwardly against the knee high seat, shuffling to find a comfortable position.

"Here, let me help," Elizabeth reached down and slowly propped Eleanor's arm over her shoulder, then very carefully guided her toward one of the sturdier looking lockers.

"There, better?" Elizabeth eased Eleanor down against its metal frame.

"I'm not that fragile you know?" Eleanor gave a snarky grin. "But yes, this is a lot better. Thanks Elizabeth."

"You're welcome," Elizabeth started down the corridor but not before adding a chuckling remark. "Don't wander off now, I'll be right back."

"I'll behave," came Eleanor sarcastic come back as Elizabeth began searching through the lockers.

The first thing she noticed was how messy and unkempt the place was, with countless discarded personal effects littering the floor. Clothes, food wrappings, towels and garbage of various kinds carpeted her way, while many of the lockers were left opened in a hurried manner, its content pouring out. Elizabeth searched through these for any medical supplies but found nothing of use.

Soon the corridor opened up and she was greeted with a long pane window.

It was night outside, gray celestial light shone weakly through the dusty glass, casting a soft silver hue across the gloomy interior. Turning left and right, Elizabeth let out a sigh of relief when she spotted a transparent cabinet with a red cross plastered on the surface. Throwing it open, Elizabeth grabbed the white plastic case inside and rushed back to Eleanor.

"That was quick," Eleanor commented as Elizabeth knelt down beside her and flipped the case open. Inside was your standard medical tools: syringes, bottles of antibiotic, painkiller and disinfectant alcohol, clean roll of cloth, puffs of cotton inside a sealed bag and some other things that she didn't recognized. All in all, it was everything Elizabeth needed to patch Eleanor up.

"Lift your shirt up," Eleanor obeyed with a grunt as Elizabeth began soaking the cotton in alcohol, the powerful smell making her nose twitched. Placing down the cyan bottle, Elizabeth could only grimaced at Eleanor's wounded abdomen, shocked by the amount of blood splattered on her torso.

"Is it that bad?" Eleanor gave her a worried look.

"There's so much blood, I can barely see a thing," Elizabeth admitted as she leaned in closer, dripping cotton held between thumb and forefinger. "This will sting a lot, so brace yourself."

"Heh, can't be as bad as when the needle went in," Eleanor braved a smile as Elizabeth carefully dabbed the cotton on the wound. The scream came instantly, Eleanor slamming her back hard against the locker, labored breath hissing through grinding teeth.

"Don't squirm so much," Elizabeth ignored Eleanor tearful cry as she quickly wiped away the black and red smear.

"Can't you…Argh! Be a little…gentle!? Yeeargh!" Eleanor wailed, writhing and twisting away from Elizabeth dabbing hand like a stubborn child refusing her bitter medicine.

"Stop moving, this'll be over a lot quicker if you just stay still," Elizabeth raised her voice sternly.

"I'm trying my best, okay!?" Eleanor shot back. "God, it hurts!"

"Well, try harder. I'm nearly done anyway."

"You're not the one with a hole in her stomach!"

"And there we are, nice and clean," Elizabeth tossed away the cotton and pulled out a length of clean cloth. "Your wound is healing already, so I don't think there's much else to do."

"That's good to hear," Eleanor said shakily as Elizabeth began wrapping her side.

"I thought it was supposed to heal a lot faster though."

"I'm low on ADAM, remember?" Eleanor snapped her fingers, producing a weak flame shimmering on her forefinger. "I can barely keep this up."

"Save your strength Eleanor," Elizabeth made one last adjustment before getting back on her feet, admiring her handy work with a grin. "There! You should heal up quite nicely, soon enough that is."

"Thanks Elizabeth," Eleanor flashed a smile and began to rise.

"Need some help?" Elizabeth moved to assist but Eleanor waved her off.

"No, I got this," hands braced on the locker, Eleanor pushed herself upright, her movement more sluggish than usual but spritely enough given the injury.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Eleanor grinned.

"Just don't over exert yourself, alright?" Elizabeth said.

"I'm actually feeling a lot better though. No really, it doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Elizabeth brow rose when Eleanor started moving again. Despite the few obvious stiffness in her steps, Eleanor did appeared more agile than she was a moment ago, jogging slowly up and down the locker row with barely noticeable impediment.

"Wow, you are healing quickly," Elizabeth observed.

"A few sores here and there, but overall everything seems to be in order," Eleanor smiled but then saw Elizabeth critical gaze. "Something wrong?"

"You look awful," Elizabeth was despondent as she scrutinized Eleanor messy form. "And your clothe is ruined too. Oh, it had looked so good on you."

Eleanor could only gaped at Elizabeth, unable to process the absurdity of what was just said.

"My clothe?!" Eleanor cried. "That's your worry?!"

"Well…yes," Elizabeth frowned. "You can't go around looking like that."

"I don't think that's really important right now Elizabeth."

"But it is Eleanor. What if we run into someone and they see…this."

"Well…I guess you have a point," Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "You're looking pretty shabby yourself."

Only now did Elizabeth realized how disheveled her own dress was. Unstrapping the bullet vest and letting it fall to the ground, Elizabeth could only sigh in doleful resignation as she beheld her own torn and bloodied ensemble. Cuts, slashes and a thick layer of grime had turned the once pearly blouse into nothing but tattered rag. Same goes with her pretty ocean green dress, frayed to ruin by countless clawing lacerations, the hem fizzled to a charcoal.

"Do you need a moment to mourn?" Eleanor smirked.

"Hmph!" Elizabeth pouted before striding down the row of lockers again, peering into those cabinets left ajar.

"What are you doing?" Eleanor followed briskly.

"There ought to be something that we can use in here," Elizabeth rummaged through the lockers, pushing aside piles of discarded greasy paper boxes, magazines of a rather provocative nature, empty cans and unwashed laundry.

"Everybody seemed to have left in a hurry," Eleanor made her observation.

Elizabeth paused in her search and gazed down the corridor, "this place look deserted."

"Remind me way too much of Rapture."

Eleanor comment sends unwanted shivers down Elizabeth spine, but she quickly banished the thought and shifted her focus back to the lockers. After a few minutes Elizabeth hands grazed a clean, slick surface that made a crumbling sound when she touched it. Brushing aside the mound of rubbish, Elizabeth grinned triumphantly as she brandished four plastic wrapped bundles to Eleanor.

"Clean clothes!" She beamed.

"Nice find," Eleanor took the military green apparels. "I hope these fits."

"It'll have to do," Elizabeth ripped the plastic open, her smile wavering somewhat as she beheld the content in her hands.

"What's that matter?" Eleanor asked.

"Oh, nothing's wrong. It's just…" Elizabeth held out the object of consternation, "I would really prefer skirt over trouser."

Eleanor could only laugh as she began unbuttoning her shirt, "don't worry Elizabeth, I'm sure you'll look great in them."

"It just looks so masculine you know? Not something a lady would wear."

"…I wear pants all the time."

"I didn't mean it like that! It's just…Argh! Forget it!" Elizabeth groaned then waved at Eleanor. "Turn around please."

With their backs to each other, they began stripping, Elizabeth wincing from the many black bruises that now marred her body, pangs of sharp ache taunting her slender form. Discarding her clothes, Elizabeth quickly slipped on the military green cargo trouser and plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and comfortable on her skin, albeit a little tight in some places, namely her chest and hip.

"Are you done yet?" Eleanor asked. "Can I turn around now?"

"Yes you can," Elizabeth spun to see Eleanor pulling the bloody strip of bandage from her stomach and tossing it aside.

"What are you doing!?" Elizabeth gasped.

"It's healed now, look," Eleanor lifted up her shirt to reveal a patch of fading pink skin where minutes before had been a blood soaked incision.

"I thought you said you were low on ADAM?"

"I was, but truth be told, I was never sure how the…slug regulate the secretion of ADAM in my body," Eleanor gave a halfhearted shrug. "Even when I couldn't get a spark between my fingers or have the strength to take another step, there was always this well of reserved energy that kept me going, soothing away the fatigue and healing my wound. It was as if the slug found that keeping its host alive was more important than any flashy uses of plasmids."

"Interesting…"

Eleanor gave Elizabeth a quick look over then, an impressed smile carving up her face. "You actually look really good in trouser, you know that?"

"I do?" Elizabeth glanced down at her pronounced curvaceous hips and legs, looking more or less unconvinced by Eleanor assessment.

"Oh absolutely, would I lie to you?"

"You wouldn't," Elizabeth took a few steps, testing her bearing and the fabric elasticity, "but it still feels pretty weird to me."

"You'll get used to it. Personally, I find it a lot less restricting than a dress."

"Certainly a lot more revealing of the frames, that's for sure."

"Nothing wrong with showing a little curve Elizabeth, especially when you got the goods to flaunt."

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth gave the ground a good stomp and pursed her lips, steamy red rising up her cheeks.

"Good to see that you're still in good spirit," Eleanor chuckled. "So…any idea where we are?"

"I don't have the slightest clue," Elizabeth glanced at the flickering bulbs above, the white fluorescent light seemed moments from snuffing. "But it's pretty dark though."

Eleanor gave Elizabeth a wary look, "are you sure we're not back in…Rapture?"

"No we're not, look," Elizabeth strode over to the wide window pane that ran along one side of the room. "See? We're not underwater. Or in the air for that matter."

"That's a relief," Eleanor came to stand beside her. "Where do you reckon we are?"

"A desert I think," Elizabeth squinted her eyes, gleaning what little detail she could from the dark landscape before her, lit faintly by pale starlight.

"The place looks pretty barren though," Eleanor added.

"After Rapture and Columbia, I say this is a nice change of scenery," Elizabeth turned back. "Come on, let see what else we can find."

Peering into the nearest locker, Elizabeth was surprised to find that the interior of this one appeared to be in tip-top shape, the owner having taken great care in keeping his storage space clean, his many belongings arranged into neat labeled files.

"Well that's convenient," Eleanor commented as she took two pair of boots and socks then seated herself down on the bench behind them, kicking off her ruined loafers.

"I know right?" Elizabeth joined her and began unzipping her own high heel boots, scorched and torn from the ordeal through Mercy Fall. "It's almost like they were prepared just for us."

"And it fits too," Eleanor laced up her boots and gave her feet a quick wiggle. "This is really weird."

"Yes indeed," Elizabeth agreed, surprised by how comfortably snug her own footwear was.

"So…are we gonna be taking that too?" Eleanor eyed the handgun at the far end of the locker. With some hesitation, Elizabeth reached inside and took the chromic pistol, along with its holster belt and two extra magazines. It was strange looking, the bulging rounded curves was a stark contrast to the blocky square normally found on a gun. And quite small too, even in her petite hand the pistol felt almost like a toy.

"Here," Elizabeth handed it to Eleanor.

"Why are you giving it to me?" Eleanor irked a brow.

"I'm not so athletically attuned, remember?" Elizabeth chuckled. "And I think it will be better in the hands of someone who knows their way around a fight."

"You know I'm not that much better than you, right?" Eleanor took the belt and tied it around her waist before holstering the gun. "And you're not so bad yourself, after everything I've seen so far."

"Thanks Eleanor, but I never really been comfortable with guns. I would prefer not to use it if possible."

"Fair enough."

"So, ready to go?"

"Hang on," Eleanor strode back to the locker and picked up a pair of flashlights and a flat ebon device, not much larger than a clipboard. Its hard black surface was polished to a mirror shine; a clear screen dominated one side of the strange, yet familiar object.

"Looks like one of those wrist devices Tangmo and Laura used," Eleanor said, her fingers tracing around the smooth edges. "I think it's the same thing actually."

"How did Tangmo turned it on again?" Elizabeth came to stand beside her.

"He just tapped the screen," Eleanor proceeds to do just that. Nothing happened. She tried again a little harder but still the machine didn't lit up, unresponsive to her mashing finger.

"Huh? Maybe it's broken," Eleanor scowled.

"Maybe try pressing that button at the bottom?" Elizabeth held back a grin as she pointed to the very obvious circular gray icon resting beneath Eleanor's thump, which she gently pressed. Predictably, the machine came to life, showing a spinning triangular logo with the acronym UAC shinning below it.

"I knew that," Eleanor said shyly.

"Sure you did," Elizabeth snickered. "I wonder what UAC is."

"Let's find out," Eleanor pressed the screen, the rotating symbol disappeared as a relaxing jingle blared from the device.

"Welcome to the Union Aerospace Corporation," came a prim woman voice as a film began playing, showing what appeared to be diorama of a building complex. "On behalf of the UAC, welcome to Mars city. This facility serves as the central hub for all scientific research, archeological study and military operation."

"Did she just say Mars?" Elizabeth eyes widened, the rest of the announcement lost to her.

"I think she just did…" Eleanor shock mirrored Elizabeth own. As the short film ended, Elizabeth and Eleanor quickly sprinted back to the window, their noses pressed against the glass pane as they took in the nocturnal vista.

"We are on Mars?!" Elizabeth couldn't contain her surprise.

"This is unbelievable," there was a hint of playful wonderment in Eleanor voice, thrill at being somewhere beyond their wildness imagination. Elizabeth was quick to joy in her mirth, feeling the same curious spirit stirring once more, buzzing ecstatically through her veins. In that moment, she had almost forgotten that they were still on the run from Columbia and Sofia, not to mention stranded on an unknown place without a clue of what to do.

Settling down, Elizabeth turned to see guarded solemnity returning to Eleanor visage.

"We need to find out where we are," Elizabeth said, "then figure out how we're going to get out of here. Or at least make contact with Mr. Master and the Eight."

"That'll be pretty difficult considering that we're not on the same planet anymore," Eleanor shrugged. "Still, it'll be better than simply waiting around."

"Agreed. I don't want Columbia and Sofia getting the jump on us."

"Can she though? Open a Tear here I mean."

"We have the same power, so it's only logical to assume that she can, and will, use a Tear to pursue us."

"Let's hope we get a good head start then," Eleanor smiled and walked down the locker rows, Elizabeth at her side. Before long they came upon what she assumed was a door, a framed panel of dirty stainless steel with a black line split down the middle. Elizabeth was wondering how the door operated when it slid open when she took a step toward it, the speed and suddenness made her yelped in surprise.

"It's pretty dark out there," Eleanor observed stiffly. The light outside flickered weakly, barely enough to keep the oppressive darkness at bay, nothing but the sound of faint hisses of steam and clanking of machinery emanated from the corridor beyond, no discernable voice of another human being can be heard.

Elizabeth swallowed a dry lump in her throat, fighting down the rising unease. Something was wrong here. She didn't know what it was, but she could feel it deep down in her core, an unspeakable aberration that went beyond the physical and into the instinctual.

Not even back in Rapture did she felt so much dread at the prospect of stepping into the unknowable dark.

"After you," Elizabeth gestured hurriedly to Eleanor, who shot her a look of pure indignation.

"Are you bloody serious?!"

"You got a gun, you'll be fine."

"Like hell I'm going out there by myself."

"Don't be silly Eleanor, there's nothing outside. And if there is you can just, you know, shoot them."

"Oh yeah? If it's so safe outside, why don't you get out there and take a peek then?"

"Simple, I'm unarmed."

"I swear Elizabeth, sometime I really want to straggle you," Eleanor poked her head outside and drew her flashlight and pistol, one in each hand. "Okay fine, you just stay here then. Alone. All by yourself. You're not afraid of the dark, right?"

Elizabeth snapped her head back the way they just came, seeing for the first time how eerie the locker room was, the dusky black not looking any better than what await them outside. The thought of spending just a minute more in this place suddenly became very unattractive.

"On the other hand, I think it would be better if we stick together," Elizabeth said, ignoring Eleanor satisfied smile.

"That's better," Eleanor flicked on her flashlight and gingerly stepped into the dim hallway, Elizabeth close at her heel. "Looks good enough. Stay close okay?"

"Got it," Elizabeth switched on her own torch and tucked the black device into the pants many pouches. They had only taken five steps when the door behind them slammed close with a metallic screech, the abruptness almost made Elizabeth dropped her flashlight in fright.

"Bloody door…" Eleanor cursed.

"Let's just get a move on," Elizabeth urged her on, their combined light managing to banish the heavy loom of darkness. What the bright fluorescent glare revealed, however, brought back a rush of unwanted memory, of decay and sorrow that was so prevalent in Rapture and Columbia.

The corridor appeared to be in a state of woeful disrepair. Section of walls and floors were broken, revealing pipes spewing soft haze of steam and infrequent sparks from severed wires underneath. Rubbish littered the ground, covering what might have once been a polished white floor in thick layer of charred and shattered detritus. The place looked as if it was attacked by an invading force of some kind.

Black smear of what Elizabeth knew was blood decorated the hallway; blotches of widening red pooled the ground and scarlet ribbons streaked across the wall, completing the grisly presentation. It wasn't the sight of wholesome carnage that caused Elizabeth to flinch, but the observable fact that the patches were still wet, trailing slowly across the floor and dripping down the wall in heavy, lethargic flow.

Whatever calamity had befallen this place happened so recently, within the hour if Elizabeth was to hazard a guess. Even worse was the fact that the perpetrators could very well still be in the vicinity. Shivering despite the warm temperature, Elizabeth found herself scooting closer to Eleanor until their bodies were almost touching.

"I thought this was supposed to be a research center?" Eleanor soft voice was abnormally loud in the absolute silence.

"Look more like a warzone," Elizabeth now noticed the bullet holes and empty casing, the guns that caused the crater scars and the men who wielded those weapons nowhere to be found.

"That seems to be a reoccurring theme for us," Eleanor forced a shaky laugh.

Elizabeth was about to speak when an abhorrently loud metallic bang sounded to her right, deafening and jarring in volume, a reverberating cacophony that causes both her and Eleanor to shriek, their combined scream eclipsing all other sound, even the two discharged bullets.

Breathing hard, Elizabeth and Eleanor clung to each other for dear life as they shine their shaking flashlights in the general direction where the piercing sound emanated, expecting to see an unfriendly face with a gun trained on them or a leering splicer moments from lunging. What they saw however, was a wall with its panel loose and a section of pipe beneath missing, now marred by two smoking bullet holes. Guiding her light downward, Elizabeth caught sight of a length of pipe rolling away.

"Jesus Christ…" Elizabeth wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of her reaction, but found herself even more distraught when only a breathless croak escaped her lips. Why the hell was she so jumpy all of a sudden? Even back in Rapture she was more collected than this. What was wrong with her? Was it the darkness that has suddenly put her so on edge?

"Damn it, what the bloody hell is wrong with me?" Eleanor grunted, arms still wrapped around Elizabeth.

"We need to keep our cool," Elizabeth took a deep lungful of air and, with mild reluctance, dislodged her arms from Eleanor. "We've been through worse for God's sake; we should be used to places like this."

"But we're not in Rapture," Eleanor holstered her pistol, "and I don't think that's actually a good thing."

Eleanor was right. At least back in the sunken city they can expect a certain familiarity, but this place…even in its empty state, seems to radiate some unfathomable malice. Not the most logical deduction, but one that will have to suffice.

"Any idea on where we're supposed to go?" Eleanor asked.

"Hold on," Elizabeth reached into her pocket and withdrew the black device, turning it on swiftly.

"Welcome to your Personal Data Assistant. How can I help you?" Said the pleasant female voice as various icons began materializing on the screen. Seeing the one labeled 'map', Elizabeth pressed her finger on it and waited as the word 'initializing' dominated the shining monitor. After a few seconds a map appeared, showing a simple outline of halls, corridors and rooms in the building they were in.

"There's a rec room just up ahead," Elizabeth now took the lead, her eyes fixed on the PDA. "Let's go there."

"Anywhere but here," Eleanor nodded quickly.

"It's not far," Elizabeth reassured her as they began moving forward. "Just right around the…"

" _Hello_."

Elizabeth spun around, flashlight sweeping across the passageway with chilling urgency, searching for the owner of the unfamiliar pixie like voice. All she found was a startle Eleanor with a worry frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" She asked nervously.

"I thought I heard a voice," Elizabeth answered wheezily, the blackness suddenly becoming crushingly claustrophobic, the light doing little to ease the rising pressure. "I'm probably just hearing things…"

" _Hi._ "

"Did you hear that?!" Elizabeth jumped when the childlike whisper came again, Eleanor ducking from the swinging flashlight that almost clocked her in the head.

"Elizabeth stop!" Eleanor grabbed her wrists. "What's going on?!"

"The voice…" Elizabeth's words came in trembling stutter. "Like…like a child voice. It's saying things to me…"

"It's probably just the pipe or something."

"No its not! Eleanor, I'm not making this up, okay?"

"Alright Elizabeth, just calm down, I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for…"

" _Hehehehehe…_ "

Eleanor's sentence trailed off to silence, mouth moving absent sound, her paling face darting left and right with the same apprehension so stark on Elizabeth just seconds before.

"You heard that, didn't you?" Elizabeth tone was hushed with fright.

"…Yes," Eleanor gulped loudly. "I think we need to get out of…"

" _Do you want to play_?"

"Run!"

Elizabeth and Eleanor bolted down the corridor, propelled by fear the like neither of them had ever experienced as the disembodied laughter rose in maddened crescendo, a living darkness nipping at their heels.

"In here!" Elizabeth skidded to a stop before a metal door, the double partitions sliding open as she bolted inside, Eleanor scrambling in after her less than a second later.

They both spun to face the door as it slid close, flashlight pointed at the dirty surface, expecting the owner of the whimsy voice to emerge. Minutes passed until Elizabeth and Eleanor was convinced that the apparition had ceased it's pursue, silence claiming dominance once again.

"Should we lock the door?" Eleanor managed between pant.

"Yeah, we should," Elizabeth nodded and, with more than necessary caution, crept slowly toward the door, Eleanor hovering just above her shoulder.

"Okay, so how do we – oh! There!" Elizabeth pressed the shiny button that says 'lock' on the box next to the door, the audible clamp of slamming bolts sounding from within the frames.

"That's better," Elizabeth gave the door a tap, grinning when it didn't slide open.

"A lot better," Eleanor agreed but appeared far from settled. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"I…I don't know," Elizabeth shook her head and strode away from the door. Besides sharing the same disheveled state as the locker room, the rec room appeared to have everything in order. A pool table dominated the center, with a bar to one side, a television set, a couple of vending machines, and a blocky contraption that Elizabeth assumed provides some sort of alternative entertainment. With a name like 'Super Turbo Turkey Puncher 3', she can't even begin to imagine the purpose of such machine.

The rec room was bathed in a weak, but warm, orange neon glow, giving the interior a calming feel. A wide uninterrupted window ran along the wall, granting a clear view of the starry night. Elizabeth almost felt relax as she placed herself down on a stool by the bar.

"Do you remember when I told you I used to hear voices back in Rapture?" Elizabeth continued. "I thought that was it at first."

"I know what you mean," Eleanor leaned on the bar beside her. "I thought I was hearing father's voice again, but then I remember that Delta didn't sound like a prepubescent girl."

"And Booker was a lot more gruff than that," Elizabeth cracked a smile.

"I'm sure he was," Eleanor chuckled lightly but somberness quickly return. "…So do you have any idea what that thing was?"

"I got nothing. You?"

"You wouldn't like what I'm about to say though."

"Try me."

"…Ghost?"

Elizabeth gave Eleanor a flat, uninspired look, "are you serious?"

"I am, so just here me out," Eleanor said pleadingly. "Please?"

"Ugh, fine," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, shocked that someone of an impeccable intellectual stature like Eleanor could come up with such a ridiculous notion.

"Okay, so do you remember when Tangmo said that there are other reality that is totally different from our own, with its own set of rule and everything? Like those one you astral projected to yesterday?" Eleanor began.

"Yeah?"

"I think we're in one of those places. And I mean physically here and not that our bodies are sleeping somewhere."

"That's seemed plausible," Elizabeth tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The Tear I opened up was larger than anything I've ever seen, so the possibility of being transported to a new reality has merits."

"Exactly."

"So where does the ghost thing come in?"

"We might be in a place where the spirit of the dead are not just some scary story told at slumber parties."

"But have you seen this place? It's a research center, on another planet for Pete's sake. How could a world so obviously dedicated to science harbor something as illogical as the supernatural?"

"Look, I know how this sounds but think about. You can't really stand there and tell me that this place doesn't give out a strange vibe, something that really affects us on the subconscious level."

Elizabeth agreed, if somewhat begrudgingly, to Eleanor assessment. Truly this entire complex seems to possess something more ominous than the eyes could comprehend. She didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the flickering light, the creeping darkness or the haunting silence that dominated the desolate halls.

"I'll admit," Elizabeth said, "that there's something rather eerie about this place."

"I think eerie is too less of a description," Eleanor continued. "Not to mention that voice in the corridor."

If there was a single evidence that supported the claims in favor of the paranormal, then this was it. As much as she wanted to keep a grounded perspective on things, that spectral voice defied all of her comprehension. She was ready to disregard it as stress and paranoia until Eleanor heard the wispy croon also.

"Maybe its joint hallucination?" Elizabeth offered sheepishly.

"Now who's being ridiculous?" Eleanor irked an eyebrow

"Regardless," Elizabeth rose from her seat, dusted her pants and looked at the PDA again. "I think we should keep moving."

"Any idea where?" Eleanor came to her side.

"The layout of the facility is pretty simple," Elizabeth brought up the map again, tapping the screen slowly. "There's a mess hall, an infirmary, an armory and a – oh! A communication center, I think that's the best place to go."

"Agreed," Eleanor concurred. "If Mr. Master or Tangmo shows up, we can quickly make contact with them."

"Let's go then," Elizabeth waved Eleanor onward but not before giving her a devilish grin. "Tangmo huh?"

"I meant the Eight!" Eleanor said hurriedly, blooming pink spreading across her cheeks.

"It is totally normal for a girl your age to feel certain urges for the opposite sex," Elizabeth added with an air of haughty professionalism. "And I'll admit that despite his rather coarse manner, Tangmo has his undeniable charm, not to mention that he's rather handsome too, which is a big plus."

"It's not like that!" Eleanor was bouncing infuriately on her toes, fighting a losing battle against the tide of squeamish red now painting her face. "He's just the first thing that came to mind, that's all…wait! No! I didn't mean it like that!"

"It's okay Eleanor, I understand."

"Bloody hell, you're so evil sometime!"

"I try my best," Elizabeth was heading for the door when she stopped, hand held out to the complaining Eleanor.

"Quiet," she said firmly. "I think I heard something."

"I heard it too," Eleanor pointed at a door in the far corner of the room, "there. Sounds like someone moaning."

Elizabeth nodded before reaching for her flashlight and slowly crept toward the door; she was reaching for the handle when Eleanor grabbed her arm.

"Are you sure?" Eleanor's apprehension was pronounced.

"It could be someone that needs help," Elizabeth reasoned.

"And if it isn't?"

"We'll know what to do then."

With no small amount of hesitation, Eleanor released Elizabeth and reached for her pistol, both hands wrapped around its polished grip. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth eased the door open, and was almost driven to her knees by the thick, putrid stench that struck her like a rolling wave.

"Oh God!" Elizabeth staggered back, hand clamped tight over her mouth and nose as she pointed the flashlight into what was obviously a bathroom. The buzzing of a thousand beating wings greeted her, a revolting symphony of black flies in countless multitudes swirling in mad raucous glee, a churning shadow that bloated out the weakened neon light like some all devouring storm.

Training her flashlight down, Elizabeth soon discovered the source of the insect wild feast. Gagging, she beheld a sickly gray body lying on the floor, widening halo of blood slick around his obese body, ghostly white eyes staring up at the ceiling. Kneeling over him was another man in an orange jumpsuit, back turned to her, head bobbing up and down as his hands seemed to fiddle with the dead man voluminous belly.

"Hello?" Elizabeth said shakily. "Are you okay? Do you need some help?"

The man didn't answer; instead, his head twitched as if registering the noise before very slowly turning to regard her. His eyes were lifeless chalk, no pupil, just one uninterrupted bloom of pasty plaster. Nostril flaring, he let out an animalistic growl, half chewed bloody pink intestine hung from his jaw, trailing down to the steaming orifice of the dead man gnawed stomach.

Elizabeth screamed as the man bolted forward, leaping back and colliding into Eleanor. Scrambling to their feet, the pair darted toward the door and slammed it shut, back braced against the metal surface. They both yelped when the man rammed the door, the force threw Elizabeth sprawling to the floor as his swathing arms edges over the opening, clawing at Eleanor who was trying to push him back.

"Argh! Elizabeth, shoot him!" Eleanor yelled as the man continued his relentless assault.

Snatching the pistol off the ground, Elizabeth was taking aim when the door flew open, sending Eleanor barreling across the room. Bursting through the flapping threshold was the blood drenched man, and standing beside him was the bloated man he had been feasting on, innards dripping from the gapping maw on his belly.

Steeling her quaking muscles, Elizabeth trained the gun on the first lanky man.

"Stay back!" He didn't heed her warning, instead making a guttural sound as he shambled toward her, hand outstretched, his voluminous companion following suite. Steadying her grip, Elizabeth pulled the trigger and watched as the bullet tore a chunk of flesh and bone clean off his skull.

But he kept coming, not bothered in the slightest by the ghastly hole on his face.

Panicking, Elizabeth emptied the magazine into him. It wasn't after the pistol clicked empty, and five more rounds to his head that the horrid abomination finally succumbed to death, most of his upper cranium a smoldering mess.

Elizabeth was turning to face the fat man with her empty gun when a powerful boom threw him to the ground. Grunting a bestial noise, he was about to rise when Eleanor appeared over him with a long barreled rifle in her arms, aim it at his head and fired, the point blank shot vaporizing his skull.

"You okay?" Eleanor pumped the forestock, red shell flying from the ejection port.

"I think so," Elizabeth nodded, a powerful shiver pricked her skin as she gazed at the two dead body. "I shot him…the bullet must've went through his head five times but he just kept coming…"

"I saw that," Eleanor said. "I – I don't understand how…"

"What the hell is going on here? Isn't this a research center?"

"Remember that Rapture was also supposed to be a place where scientific endeavors can be conducted without fear of moral restriction or reprisal," Eleanor sounded disgusted as she walked over to the main entrance and pressed the 'lock' button again, the double door sliding open. "Maybe they have the same freedom here."

"The faster Mr. Master gets here, the better," Elizabeth cast one last sorrowful look at the two bodies before joining Eleanor at the exit. "Those poor things…they must've been normal people before being experimented on."

"No one deserves that fate," Eleanor shook her head sadly before throwing what appeared to be a leather belt of shotgun shells over her shoulder. "Come on, I don't want to wait around for another surprise."

The two jogged down the corridor at a brisk pace, two bright lances of light piercing their way, Elizabeth leading with her PDA and Eleanor close at her heel, shotgun sweeping the dim passage.

"Where did you get that anyway?" Elizabeth asked suddenly.

"It was just lying there on a coffee table," Eleanor shrugged. "Along with an ammo belt and everything. Convenient and slightly creepy if you asked me."

"Shouldn't the belt go around your waist?"

"I saw those newsreels about the war in Vietnam on the telly once and this was how they wore it."

"If you say so."

"So how long until we reach the communication center?"

"Down this corridor then take a right, not far now."

The journey down the hallway took more time than Elizabeth had anticipated. She didn't know whether it was her rising anxiety or the cramp interior that was causing some illusion of the senses, but what should have taken seconds stretched close to five minutes before they finally reached the three way junction.

"Did that seemed a little long to you?" Eleanor observed.

"It was," Elizabeth took a few deep breaths and craned her neck back behind them; it would've only taken a few strides to stand where they were now.

"I'm really beginning to doubt my own perception of things," Eleanor continued.

"It's just this place," was all Elizabeth could say as she took a right. "Come on, we're almost…"

" _Hello again_."

Elizabeth and Eleanor both spun around, flashlights and guns pointed down the adjacent corridor, the swathe of white neon light revealing nothing but emptiness. Backing away slowly, eyes fixed on the general direction where the voice had come, Elizabeth could only muttered a hushed curse through gritted teeth. She had hoped not to run into the anomaly again, but it appeared that the ethereal owner of the voice has taken an interest to them.

"Who are you?" Elizabeth demanded as childish snicker echoed across the hall like a freezing mist, making every hair on her body stand on end. "What do you want?!"

It didn't answered, but seemed amused by the request, the laughter growing louder in volume and tempo.

"Show yourself you coward!"

The laughter suddenly stopped and Elizabeth realized too late that her hasty words might not have been the wisest one. She could only mouthed a sorry to the horrified Eleanor as the revenant spoke again, its playfulness replaced by a sharper, harsher tone.

" _As you wish_."

At that utterance, a cadence of disjoint whisper rushed over them, hundred of voices clashing like swords on a battlefield as a burning orange glow appeared at the other end of the corridor. It started off as a single bright point in the dark, like a cat's eye in the night, before more intricate pattern formed around it, clear geometric shapes and rows of what appeared to be incomprehensible language began dancing across the empty air, glowing like hellfire.

Then within that chaotic maelstrom of symbols a clear shape emerged, a pentagram with an effigy of a demon with a ram horn at the center. As the fiery glow reached its zenith, a flaming pillar erupted at center of the conflagration as everything caved in on itself and disappeared in a puff of smoke, and where the swirling letters has been now crouched an inhuman shape.

Its skin a craggy gray, the hissing creature before them possessed long limps corded in muscles, a lipless mouth and ten lidless eyes that glared at her with hungry intensity. It gave a breathy roar and bounded toward them on all four, talons brandished in the dying light.

There was no time to scream as Elizabeth and Eleanor leveled their weapons and fired, the corridor flashing with the discharging staccatos. The monster was fast, bullets bounced off the floor as it suddenly leapt onto the wall like a splicer and began crawling down the hallway at a vertical angle.

"Stay still you bastard!" Eleanor roared as the gray beast leapt onto the ceiling, dropped down to the floor then bounded onto the wall again, darting from one surface to another like a spider. Pistol clicking empty, Elizabeth was reaching for a magazine when a bright glow shaded her vision.

"Look out!" Eleanor yelled and tackled her to the ground as searing heat soared over their heads.

Looking up, Elizabeth eyes went wide when she saw a pulsing ball of fire enveloping the creature's hand. Before she could even scramble to her feet the creature threw the flaming orb at them. Elizabeth and Eleanor quickly pushed off each other, both slamming into the opposite walls as the red projectile struck where they had laid with a loud fizzle.

"Two can play at this game!" Eleanor growled and threw a fistful of Winter Blast at the creature. Screeching in surprise, the monster raised it arms to shield the sudden hail of ice that began coating its limps in fresh layer of freezing crystal, greatly impeding its limberness.

Taking this chance, Elizabeth slammed in a new magazine, rose to her knee and took aim. She emptied the clip into the writhing creature, not a single bullet wasted as the howling monster collapsed to the ground, torso and head riddled with scorching holes.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth rushed to her friend who was leaning heavily on the wall, shotgun slacked in her arms. "Are you hurt?"

"No, just a little winded that's all," Eleanor straightened her back and trudges off. "Come on."

Unlike before, they were able to reach the communication center within seconds without any more interruption, slipping quickly inside and locking the door. The interior was moderate in size but made more cramp by stacks of boxy electronic apparatus that filled one half of the room.

Compared to everywhere else, the communication center appeared to be the most optimally illuminated. Here the bright neon glare didn't flickered and all of the equipment seemed to be working.

"I'll see if I can get any of this to work," Eleanor seated herself down in front of a blank monitor and gave the typewriter like pad a few experimental taps, the screen immediately glowing to life with the UAC triangle logo.

"Okay, let see what this do," propping the shotgun beside her leg, Eleanor grabbed a strange white oval device lying next to the keypad, lift it up to her face and shook it.

"Eleanor look," Elizabeth pointed at the neon display. "When you touched that egg thing, the little arrow on the screen started moving."

Eleanor stared at the monitor and began shaking the egg device, the arrow not responding to her vigorous input. Elizabeth was about to give more suggestions when Eleanor placed the plastic oval back on the desk and began sliding it across the surface. The pixelated arrow now moving crisply to her command, swishing around the screen with speed and precision.

"Now that we know how this thing works, I think we should try and figure out…"

"Elizabeth? Eleanor? Is that you?!"

The female voice blaring from the radio like contraption caused both of them to leap off their feet. Elizabeth was ready to assume that the ghostly child has returned to plague them, if it was not for the fact that she recognized the woman at the other end of the line, and with that recognition a rush of calm washes over her, banishing any trepidation that may lingered.

"Press the big button under the microphone to talk," the voice said again.

"Yuki?!" Elizabeth spoke into machine.

"Oh thank God we found you!" Yuki exclaimed. "Yo! Erik! It is them!"

"Crom be praised!" The chirpy boy joined her. "Good to see both of you up and about!"

"Likewise," Eleanor now said, "how did you find us?"

"Beside that security camera in the room? The Luteces helped," Yuki said. "They and the Master jury rigged a machine that detects the Tear's energy across the dark matter between the universes. It's pretty unreliable though, since it could only give a vague direction and not the precise location. Guess me and Erik got lucky."

"How is everyone? Is Brigid and Sally okay?" Eleanor pressed on. "What about you guys?"

"Brigid and Sally are safe with the Master," Yuki reassured her. "As for the rest of us, we're fine. Pissed off, but fine."

"Is Tangmo there with you?" Elizabeth smile was innocently cruel as she took the microphone from the reddening Eleanor.

"No, he and Lita are probably somewhere on the other side of the cosmos by now. They're with the BPRD if I remember correctly," Yuki answered. "Why?"

"Oh my, I'm so sorry Eleanor, Tangmo isn't here."

"Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth chuckled softly as Yuki and Erik spluttered a laugh, Eleanor all the while blistered with fuming embarrassment.

"Anyway, where are you guys right now?" Elizabeth asked.

"Too far away from you," Erik said. "We're inside Mars city main control tower, right at the heart of a demonic incursion. While you two are at a subsection of Delta lab at the very western edge of the city. Say, did you ran into any zombies and Imps yet? We had to bar our doors here, the place is infested with them."

"We did," Eleanor took the microphone from Elizabeth and gave her a grumpy pout. "So I assume you know quite a great deal about this place then?"

"You're in Doom 3, a horror video game from 2004 made by id Software."

"Doom 3? That sounds cheerful," Eleanor did nothing to hide her distaste.

"You don't know the half of it," Erik cleared his throat then. "But since you're not going anywhere soon, and according to our surveillance cameras the area is pretty clear of any creepy crawlies, I think I should fill you both in on what is going on here. So make yourself comfortable, because it's gonna be one hell of a ride."


	17. A Speedrun Into Hell

The more Erik happily, and quiet enthusiastically, recounted the history of the Union Aerospace Corporation failed endeavor on the planet Mars, the more Eleanor felt sickened to the core of her being. With a pioneering mind, not that dissimilar to Andrew Ryan, the corporate conglomerate initiated a daring mission to the red planet with the objective of developing sustainable energy, perfecting terraforming technology and creating state of the art teleportation device.

And like Rapture everything went wrong.

Thought long dead by astronomer, what the enterprising scientists discovered beneath the Martian surface were, and Eleanor was still having a hard time believing this, demonic monsters. Not some extraterrestrial life either, but the genesis of the Devil and his minions found in Biblical text.

"…then the Doom Guy waltz straight into hell and kicked the Cyber Demon's ass with the Soul Cube, thus ending the demonic invasion," Erik gave his energetic testimony. "And so Mars was saved. That's pretty much the gist of the story."

"That all sound terribly dreadful," Eleanor said. "Almost as bad as Rapture to be honest."

"And this is a game where you came from? A piece of interactive entertainment?" Elizabeth was outraged. "People actually enjoy this?!"

"Duh!" Yuki retorted. "Violence sells ladies. Why do you think slap stick comedies are so popular? Or how after all these times boxing and UFC are still raking in millions? Or the fact that there's a new Call of Duty out every freaking year? People love this stuff!"

"That's horrible!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Hey, you should be happy you ended up here," from the tone, Eleanor assumed that Yuki was shrugging. "There are worse places to be. Trust me."

"You have got to be joking."

"At least those demons aren't immune to bullets; I'll say that's a big plus."

"So do you have any ideas on how to get us out of here?" Eleanor cut into the banter.

"You need to find where the rift in space and time is the weakest," Yuki went on. "This is actually a lot simpler than you might imagine since one of the main research being conducted in Delta lab is a teleportation portal. A lab in your vicinity have one such teleporter, you can get there and open a Tear out of here."

"Finally some good news."

"…Yeah, not quite, the teleporter is about fifteen levels below you. Basically, you guys have to descend into the bowel of Mars and fight your way through barely lit corridors filled with monsters and demons."

"You're just a bag full of sunshine and smile, aren't you?"

"Tell you what, I'll try and meet up with you two along the way. Erik, think you can hold the fort here?"

"No problem," Erik said confidently.

"In the meantime, I'm gonna open a data and communication link to your PDA," Yuki announcement was followed by the sound of rapid typing. "A few more seconds and…there."

A bright electronic jingle twinkled from the PDA. Elizabeth drew the device from her pants and lifted it up to her face, the word 'connection established' flashed on the screen.

"Alright I got you connected." Elizabeth gave the device a few affirmative taps.

"Now you should have a more detailed and multilayered map of this place," Yuki was right, the simple layout was now expanded into a comprehensive diagram with names and distance.

"So I guess we'll be seeing you soon?" Eleanor picked up her shotgun and began inserting new shells into the loading port.

"I hope so," the clanks of reloading weapons and rasping blade accompanied Yuki less than encouraging words. "Remember, knowing when to fight could be the difference between life and death. The hero might become the legend but it's the survivors that passed on his tales. Anyway good luck, I'll see you guys later. Erik, give me a hand here."

With that the transmission ended, leaving Eleanor and Elizabeth alone in the unwelcoming interior of Mars city. It was weird, Eleanor reflected as they headed for the door. Through all the trail and tribulation that was Rapture, shouldn't she be more collected when faced with such a familiar adversity?

Here she was fleeing another city doomed to the avarice of greed, a deja vu of the most unwanted kind, the same obstacle to be overcome again. But as they ventured back into the dark corridor she felt nothing but fear, confidence accumulated during her flight across Rapture seeped from her like blood draining from a stilled cadaver.

Taking a deep breath, Eleanor banished the distracting apprehension from her mind. Escaping this place and keeping Elizabeth safe was her only priority now. Nothing else mattered.

"So," Eleanor began. "Where to?"

"Those two said we need to go down, right?" Elizabeth gently touched the PDA screen. "Let see…looks like there's an elevator nearby. Guess that's where we have to go."

"How far?"

"According to the map it should be just down the corridor, pass the locker room and…"

Elizabeth voice trailed off as she stared ahead, dread taut her face. Bracing up her shotgun, Eleanor swept the wide barrel down the hall, flashlight revealing nothing but blessed emptiness.

"There's nothing here," Eleanor observation did little to ease Elizabeth's fright.

"That thing we killed…where is it?"

How could she not see that? The empty shells and full metal cases remained where they had fallen, the charred bullet holes that pocked the ground were now cold and the scorch marks where the fireball has landed were nothing but blackened soot on the floor. Yet the Imp, as Yuki and Erik had named the gray creature, was gone, nothing but a few melting icicles of her plasmid remained to mark its demise.

"Stay close to me," Eleanor fought down her own fear, the shotgun providing a fleeting reassurance. "It has to be injured at least. We can take it down again."

A jingle chimed across the silent hallway then, the relaxing electronic tune failing to prevent her and Elizabeth from yelping at the sudden acoustic intrusion. Huddling close together, flashlights and guns darting across the foreboding corridor, Eleanor and Elizabeth stood back to back as the twinkling note continued, the volume rising with every passing seconds.

"Wait a minute," Elizabeth's hand reached into a pouch on her cargo pants and withdrew the glowing, vibrating PDA, the pleasant music booming from the polished device.

Eleanor shoulders sagged, letting out a heavy sigh as Elizabeth grin apologetically and tapped the PDA with delicate care.

"Hello!" The sunny voice of Erik replaced the jingle. "Just checking in to see if the radio is working."

"You almost gave us a heart attack!" Elizabeth was less than happy.

"Oh, sorry about that."

"And can you keep your voice down? That thing could still be around here."

"What thing?"

"That Imp thing, I shot it dead myself and now it's gone."

"Gone as in the corpse disappeared?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you actually killed the bugger? And not just injured it or something?"

"I froze it with my plasmid then Elizabeth took it down with her gun," Eleanor interjected. "We both saw it died."

"Then there's nothing to worry about then."

"I'm sorry, but did you just tell us not to worry?"

"Yes I did, the Imp is most definitely dead."

"The body's gone!"

"That's just how things work around here you know? After a while the demon's corpse just spontaneously combust, supposedly its some kind of self-cremation mechanism so that their souls can go and regroup in hell."

"That makes absolutely no sense at all!"

"Yes, because the idea of injecting yourself with chemical to gain superpower is a lot more logical. Come on, different world different rules remember?"

"Ugh! Fine!" Eleanor pursed her lips, huffing exasperatedly as Elizabeth took rein of the PDA again.

"So you're saying that we're safe?"

"Well, the things you killed isn't gonna go Evil Dead and spring back to life. Unfortunately there's no more room in hell and there are demons everywhere, so be very, very careful. That Imp you took down is lightweight compare to the other stuff around here."

"So what should we do?"

"Do what Yuki said and fight only when you must. Don't worry guys, I'll be here to guide you every step of the way through this hellish labyrinth that is Delta lab, trust me when I say you're in good hands."

"Thank you Erik, it's good to have someone watching over our backs," Elizabeth said sweetly and Eleanor couldn't help but smile, knowing that the boy must be blushing at the other end of the line.

"Aww, shucks, it's nothing really," Erik gave his bashful response. "I'm beginning to feel like Atlas from the first game."

Eleanor flinched, not at the abysmal choice of word uttered by Erik but the paling shock that came over Elizabeth. Her bulging eyes however quickly narrowed into something vicious, a piercing anger that made the oppressive corridor warm and welcoming in comparison.

"What did you just say?" Elizabeth growled darkly.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that!" Erik squeaked, hurried and demure. "I mean – that just slipped out! I was just…oh man, I know what he did to you and…God, I'm sorry so Elizabeth."

"Way to go, retard," Yuki voice joined the fray. "Of all the things you could've said, you choose that one. Bra-fucking-vo."

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Elizabeth!"

Heedless of his pitiful begging, Elizabeth simply handed the PDA to Eleanor and turned away.

"Elizabeth is unavailable at the moment," Eleanor spoke. "Was there anything else?"

"I think I should stop talking for now," Erik's energy seemed to have dampened by a few octaves. "I'll give you guys a call if something comes up. Elizabeth…I'm really sorry."

The transmission ended with a lonely beep and Eleanor handed the PDA back to the still furious Elizabeth, feeling somewhat relieved that she wasn't the target of the brunette fuming hostility this time.

"Let's go," Elizabeth stomped loudly down the corridor.

"You know," Eleanor began cautiously as she came to her side, "in Erik defense, I don't think he meant to offend you."

Elizabeth gave her sidelong glance, "that doesn't excuse him for what he'd said, he should've known better."

"I'm not making excuses for him Elizabeth," Eleanor treaded carefully, not wanting the animosity to find a new target. "What he said was absolutely inconsiderate, but it was clear that he didn't mean to hurt you, he was downright wallowing when he apologized. So don't go too hard on him when he calls again."

"I know, I know," Elizabeth sighed, a hand ghosting over her left eye. "But some pain just never goes away."

"I understand," Eleanor felt her mood darkened then, not at Erik but Atlas. What that monster did to her, how he used her, tortured her and finally killed her after getting what he wanted made Eleanor's blood boiled with incomprehensible fury. She wished there was a Tear that led her to another universe where Atlas is still alive so she can murder the bastard herself, making him feel the agony he inflicted upon her friend ten times over. It was a dark thought; one that Delta will never approve, but Eleanor can't deny its soothing effect.

At least she could take solace in knowing that it was Sally and her friends that put an end to him, one cannot find a more poetic execution of justice.

Following the digital map, they traversed the empty corridor at a brisk, but cautious pace. Their passage was thankfully uneventful, no ghouls or ghosts, just the occasional moan of decay that haunt the derelict interior. Soon enough they came upon a grated double door, the 'elevator' sign above it rotted by black stain and rust.

The ringing of the PDA came again in that moment, the chiming tune pleasant and calming. Holding up the device before her, Elizabeth sighed and pressed the screen.

"Um…hello, me again," Erik voice was subdued, almost cowering.

"What is it?" Elizabeth said sternly.

"There's an armory just beside the elevator," Erik continued softly. "You might want to grab all the gears and weapons you can carry. Initial surveillance shows that the demons and zombies are out in droves on the lower levels. So, you know, better to be prepared than sorry."

"The armory's locked," Elizabeth went over to the keypad by the sliding doors.

"The passcode is 2236."

Punching in the number, the two partitions parted with a rusty screech, revealing a barely lit room with caged lockers and glass cabinets, weapons of various kinds were displayed in brilliant rows and mounted on walls like trophies.

"I would recommend lightweight weapons so it doesn't impede your speed and movement," Erik continued. "As you might have already noticed, the shotgun is lighter and more compact than those from your time, this goes with pretty much everything else. The machinegun would be a good choice, it weigh practically nothing and take a long time before running out."

"Thank you Erik," Elizabeth tone was brutally neutral as she placed the PDA on a nearby create and swung opened a glass cabinet, picking up the shiny assault rifle inside. She hefted it up and down before turning to Eleanor with an admiring nod, pleased with the weight and design.

"Hey…um, Elizabeth?" Erik began meekly, drawing Elizabeth narrowing ire. With the gun firmly in her grasped, Eleanor thought that the brunette was about to shoot the PDA and shut Erik up.

Thankfully she did nothing of the sort, opting instead to use the more effective silent treatment on the boy.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now," he pressed on gloomily. "But for what it's worth, I want to apologize again. I was an idiot, I can't keep my mouth shut, and because of that I hurt you worse than anything that could be achieved physically. I'm a stupid, dumb, piece of…"

"Erik," Elizabeth stopped his self-berating tirade. "Just stop, okay?"

"But I'm…"

"Look," Elizabeth inhaled deeply before speaking and Eleanor was surprised to see a tender smile curving up her lips. "I can tell that you didn't mean what you said; you seem too much of a nice person to be so callous, so stop beating yourself over it, alright?"

"Okay...I'm still very sorry though."

"Don't be Erik, I forgive you. Even the best of us can make mistake and say things that we regret sometime."

Elizabeth gave Eleanor a snarky knowing look, one she returned with a sheepish grin and mouthing the word 'sorry'.

"Really?! I mean – thank you Elizabeth, I promise not to act like an ass anymore."

"I'm sure you won't. Now I think me and Eleanor need some times to ourselves as we sort out this armament business."

"Oh, right! Of course! Definitely! Just give me a call if you need anything! Ciao!"

"That was really merciful of you," Eleanor commented as she began stuffing extra shotgun shells into her pockets and belt.

"There wasn't any point in tormenting the poor boy," Elizabeth shrugged and slung the machinegun over her shoulder. "Besides, you were right, he did sound sincere and nice enough with his apology."

"Aww, you're warming up to him so quick!" Eleanor crooned sweetly, trying to gouge the same bashful reaction that she herself had suffered at the mentioning of Tangmo. Much to her disappointment, Elizabeth was immune to such goading, instead giving her a pitying smile for such a paltry attempt.

"Nice try Eleanor, but I'm not so hasty when choosing a Mr. Right," and now it was Eleanor growing red again, finding herself on the receiving end of Elizabeth masterful counterstroke. God, how does she keep doing that?

"Anyway, let's concentrate on the stuff we need for the moment," Elizabeth tied a belt full of long rectangular magazines around her waist before picking up a combat knife, the serrated blade leering silver. After a few seconds of hesitation, Elizabeth slid the melee weapon into her belt before handing an extra one to Eleanor.

"Could come in handy."

"No need, I still got mine," Eleanor withdrew the brass knuckle and dagger Tangmo had given her back at Mercy Fall.

"Ah, I see you hold dear to what is important."

"Oh, shut up."

Stifling a laugh, Elizabeth spoke into the PDA: "I think we got everything we need Erik…"

"To your right! Look out!" The boom of rapid gunfire and inhuman shrieks answered Elizabeth, the distorted firefight punctured by Erik frantic yelling. "Two Pinky Demons and a pack of Imps are on your tail, take a left at the next intersection and use the ventilation system to lose them. Be advice, there are several Crawlers inside, so be careful."

"Thanks for the heads up," Yuki acknowledgement came with the sound of sheathing sword before the transmission ended.

"Are you guys okay?" Elizabeth asked as she and Eleanor headed for the elevator.

"Huh? Oh yeah, nothing to worry about," Erik said good-naturedly. "Yuki just had a little run in that's all, nothing she can't handle. Did you want to ask me something?"

"We got everything we need, but the elevator seems to be in a really bad shape. The control panel was tore off the wall and I have no idea how to fix it."

"Neither do I," Eleanor added. "It looked more advance than anything back in Rapture."

"Not to worry ladies, just give me a sec," the low hum of machinery emanated from the elevator shaft, and behind the barrier Eleanor could see the thick rusty cables moving. After a few seconds the elevator ascended into view and opened its doors to reveal a boxy confinement lit by dim neon light.

"Your carriage awaits," for all of his positivity, Erik seems to possess an uncanny ability to always say the wrong thing at the worst possible moment.

"How charming," Eleanor deadpanned and strode inside with Elizabeth. Strangely enough, the tight enclosure actually felt rather comforting in a way, maybe because nothing can jump at them in such a cramp space.

"Alright, you two just sit back and enjoy the ride," the doors slammed closed as the elevator began to descend, smoother than Eleanor had expected. "Or stand, whatever you're comfortable with."

"Thanks Erik," Eleanor looked down and grimaced at the filthy floor layered in putrid brown blooms and splatters, "but I think I'll stand."

"You and me both," Elizabeth agreed.

"The elevator will stop on the tenth floor," Erik continued. "The rest of the way down seems to have caved in. It's going to be a couple of minutes before you reached that level, so take this time to give yourself a quick breather."

"Thanks for all your help Erik," Elizabeth earlier discontent with the boy had completely dissipated. "We'll give you a call if something comes up."

"I'll be right here. Now I have to see what Yuki's up too," Elizabeth stuffed the PDA back into her front pocket and leaned against the wall, hand rising to cover a yawn.

"How're you holding up?" Eleanor asked.

"Peachy," Elizabeth offered a soft smile. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"I know what you mean; it's been a very long day to say the least."

"Hopefully it'll come to an end soon."

"Yeah…" Eleanor was silent for a few moments before speaking again. "So? Where do you reckon we go next?"

"Back to planet Earth," Elizabeth chuckled dryly.

"I mean after all of this is over. We can't go back to Mercy Fall, that's for sure, so where do you think we should go?"

"Isn't it a bit too early to be thinking about that?"

"Hey, it helps passes the time. So any idea where? If Mr. Master is as powerful as he said he is, then I guess we can just name the place. New York? Paris?"

"Hmm…that does sounds good," Elizabeth tilted her head thoughtfully. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere is good I suppose," Eleanor shrugged.

"How about England? London perhaps? You always said you wanted to see what it's like over there."

"For a visit, sure, not to live there. I might sound like a dainty Englishwoman but I doubt I could ever fit in with them, I was born in Rapture and that would sadly be my nationality despite my Anglo-Saxon heritage." Eleanor gave a mirthless grin. "Same goes with Mercy Fall if I was being honest. People always looked and talked behind my back. That weird girl from the sea, they say when they thought I couldn't hear. I was ready to resign myself to a life of a secluded hermit before you showed up."

"Their loss for being petty and superficial," Elizabeth said sharply. "I pity them, you know? Because if they actually tried, they'll know what a great and wonderful person you are."

"Well, some of them did open up to me eventually. And I have you thank for that. If you weren't so pushy and friendly all the time, I would've been more than happy to sulk into the shadow and become nocturnal."

"I was always good with positive encouragement."

"But seriously though, thank you Elizabeth. A lifetime raised in a glass cage can make you very nervous around other people."

"Don't mention it Eleanor, it's the least I could do after you helped me with the nightmares. If you weren't there to help me cope, I would have probably ended up institutionalized or worse."

"Anything for my friend."

Both were sharing a comforting smile when a loud screech and a powerful concussive shock threw them both to the ground.

"Ugh…what the hell happened?" Eleanor rubbed her tender forehead and groggily rose to her feet.

"Erik!" Elizabeth yelled into the PDA. "What's going on? What's happening?"

"The goddamn elevator stopped," Erik reply came with the rapid ticking of fingers on keyboard. "You're stuck half way between level eight and nine. Hang on, I'll see if I can get this thing moving again."

A few minutes of stressful silence passed before Erik called again, the elevator not moving by an inch:

"Crap! Something got lodged in the gears, there's nothing I can do from this end."

Eleanor was about to ask him what they can do when raspy roars echoed from below, an inhuman wailing accompanied by the wincing scrapes of sharpened points grating steel. Before she could even react the elevator began shaking violently to the thudding rhythm of pounding fists, the metallic floor beneath them bulging grotesquely inward. It took three more hammering strikes for the contorted sheet of steel to yield; midnight talons punching through the ruptured plates, the sharpened hooks scything the floor apart as the incision quickly widened.

"Piss off!" Eleanor pressed the barrel of her shotgun on the slit and pulled the trigger. The creature gave a painful howl as it plummet into the abyss but another Imp swiftly took its place, clawing with renewed urgency now that they realized their prey wasn't about to go down without a fight.

"Up! We need to go up!" Elizabeth pointed at the ceiling above.

Staring up, Eleanor concentrated and stirred ADAM to life, EVE coursed through her veins as she willed the telekinetic plasmid to the center of her palm, feeling the invisible force coalescing into a ball. Inhaling sharply, Eleanor pushed the concentrated telekinesis manifestation at the ceiling. The impact tore the roof open, punching a hole wide enough for them to escape.

"Elizabeth! Here!" Eleanor bended her knees and clamped her hands together. Nodding, Elizabeth flung the machinegun over her shoulder and placed her foot on the interlocked palms as Eleanor raised her upward. Grunting, Elizabeth propped her torso onto the elevator roof and hurled herself over.

"Take my hand! Quick!" Elizabeth reappeared a second later and extended her hand to Eleanor.

Throwing the shotgun up through the opening, Eleanor bounded up and grabbed Elizabeth's hand just as an Imp wormed its upper body inside. The creature snarled and swathed its claws at Eleanor dangling legs, thankfully still out of reach.

"Pull me up! Pull me up!" Eleanor squirmed and kicked at the persistent Imp, the razor of tip of its talons scraping the sole of her boots.

"I'm trying!" Elizabeth gritted her teeth and pulled until Eleanor was able to grab the edge of the ceiling. Pulling herself on to the roof, Eleanor took a moment to catch her breath as Elizabeth unloaded her machinegun on the immobile Imp. It sounded outraged at getting killed in such a predicament.

"What now?" Eleanor picked up her shotgun and peered over the side of the elevator, the sight of a hundred burning eyes bobbing up toward them robbed her breath away, fear freezing muscles and bones.

"A vent, there!" Elizabeth pointed at a narrow entryway blocked by rusty bars. Tearing her eyes away from the closing Imps, Eleanor grabbed the dirty grate and wrenched it free from the wall.

"Get in!" Eleanor pushed Elizabeth into the small vent and rigged the space around the opening with Cyclone Trap plasmid before slipping in after the brunette.

"Is that you Eleanor?" Elizabeth concerned voice echoed in front of her.

"Yeah, it's me," Eleanor said as she crawled forward, there was no light inside the tight confines and it was too cramp to reach for the torch in her pocket, so narrow was the interior that her head scraped against the ceiling even though she was already flat on her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm fine," Eleanor nodded when a powerful gust rammed into them, followed by the Imps indignant screaming.

"What did you do?" Elizabeth inquired with a hint of amusement.

"A little plasmid surprise," Eleanor grinned. "That ought to slow them down."

Elizabeth snickered as they shuffled onward, the tight crawlspace made their progress sluggish but after a few minutes the mad screeching of the Imps had ceased completely. Still not slowing down, knowing better than to be complacent, they continued on as fast as the claustrophobic passageway would allow. Elbows and knees scarping coarse metal, Eleanor wiped sheen of sweat from her face as she ambled after Elizabeth into the impenetrable black, the brunette tired panting coming from somewhere beyond. Thank god that the vent went in a straight line, she could only shuddered at the thought of getting lost in a place like this.

So consumed by the singular focus of moving forward, Eleanor failed to hear the thud and curse as Elizabeth's head slammed into a wall, only realizing that she had stopped when her face bumped into the brunette round bottom.

"Eek!" Elizabeth squeaked as Eleanor quickly scrambled back from her posterior.

"Sorry!" Eleanor stammered, thanking the darkness for hiding her reddened face. "Why did we stopped?"

"A dead end."

"What?!"

"Calm down, just give me a minute."

She could hear Elizabeth hands tracing the walls blindly for a way forward. As the seconds wore on Eleanor felt her heart beating faster, growing more tense as the silence stretches on.

"Aha! Just as I thought," Elizabeth said triumphantly. "It's a bend to the right. Come on."

"Oh thank God, I thought we were stuck here," Eleanor sighed and followed Elizabeth, hands reaching out to brush against the hard wall ahead before angling her body to the right. Another intersection await them after a few more minutes, this one turning left, and as they cleared the bend the stygian dark was lessened by a soft ray of light.

"Finally." Elizabeth grunted as they shuffled toward their shinning destination, the pale neon light outlining the brunette ample curves, much to Eleanor seething envy. She was always more on the skinny side of things.

"Ugh, damn it!" Elizabeth said suddenly and stopped.

"What's wrong?" Eleanor piped up.

"The grate won't budge," Elizabeth gave the barricade a few tugs before giving up.

"Scoot over a bit," Eleanor braced her back against one side of the wall and began edging toward the bright exit, her movement hampered by the limited room and Elizabeth.

"Careful!" Elizabeth yelped when Eleanor tried to squeeze pass her, their bodies touching in all the wrong places, arms and legs entwining like malformed pretzel as both tried to worm away from the other.

"Move a little!" Eleanor hissed, burning bright scarlet as her face came dangerously close to Elizabeth's breast.

"Can you please get your hand off my butt?!" Elizabeth fidgeted like a fish out of water.

"Well yours is wedged between my legs!"

"Hang on, I'll try and…"

"Stop! For the love of God don't move that hand!"

"Okay, okay, just climb over me then."

"I can't, you're too big."

"I'm not big! The vent is just too small."

"Let me just try too...ugh! It's so tight! Just a little more twist here and I might…nope, I think I'm stuck now."

"I feel very uncomfortable. And somewhat violated."

"The feeling is mutual. You know what? Forget this."

Giving up on trying to force her way through, Eleanor suddenly closed her distance with Elizabeth, her free arm snaking over the brunette before pulling the other girl into an awkward, some would say lewd, embrace.

"Eleanor what are you doing?!" Elizabeth said sharply and began struggling.

"Just stay still and relax," Eleanor slowed her breathing, ignoring Elizabeth protest as she took in the corridor beyond the grate, seared the image into her mind before summoning all remaining repository of ADAM into the teleportation plasmid. It's risky, with her dwindling strength and shortage of ADAM, the chance of botching this and killing both herself and Elizabeth was a strong possibility. But it's not like they could wait for Yuki to come and help them.

"Eleanor…" Elizabeth glowered darkly. "If you don't let me go right now…"

"Be quiet and stop moving," Eleanor snapped. "I'm getting us both out of here."

Before Elizabeth can uttered another word, Eleanor closed her eyes and unleashed the plasmid. There was a smell of stale smoke, a blinding violet flash, an all-encompassing darkness, then the muted light of fluorescent bulbs as they finally rolled off each other, all of which happened in a span of a second. Panting, Eleanor could barely move as she stared up at nothing, her eyelids almost shut as she took one labored breath after another.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth appeared over her, looking troubled. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Groaning, Eleanor blinked a few times before rising sluggishly, "a little out of breath, but I'll be fine."

"You could've warned me before you got intimate," Elizabeth gave her a halfhearted chastising, grinning all the while. "I would've been a lot more cooperative."

"Sorry, I got kinda desperate back there," Eleanor gave the brunette a quick look over. "Good to see that you're in one piece. I'm not missing any limbs, am I?"

"None that I can see," Elizabeth smiled. "But seriously, you might want to warn me a little next time. Things got a little too friendly back in there."

"Like when you kissed me while I was unconscious?"

Eleanor could only laugh at how fast Elizabeth cheeks flushed red, the brunette going rigid like a corpse as she spluttered to find the correct words to say.

"That's…different!" Was all she managed. "How did you…?!"

"I can still taste your tropical mint balm on my mouth."

"You were dying! I had to do something!"

"It's okay Elizabeth, I understand," Eleanor gave a nasty grin and a wink. "It'll be our little secret."

Elizabeth was on the verge of unleashing a barrage of less than kind words at the chortling Eleanor when the PDA jingle made its timely interruption. Taking a deep, calming breath, Elizabeth pressed the screen and spoke in an all too sweet voice:

"Yes Erik?"

The boy must have noticed that something was amiss for he didn't respond immediately.

"Uh…are you okay?" He began after a few seconds. "I got really worried after you two slip into the vent. You went radio silence and there wasn't any camera in there so I couldn't see a thing."

"Oh thank god,"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nothing. So you were saying?"

"Well, it's good to see you both alive and unharmed."

"Yes, yes, we're fine, totally fine, absolutely, perfectly a okay."

"Are you sure? You sound a little…unsettled."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Right! Whatever you say mam!"

"Was there anything else?"

"Just calling to tell you that you're on level eight, from this point on every floor is connected with staircases so you don't need the elevator anymore. Just be careful, you're deep in the hornet nest now, so expect the worst. Yuki should be around there somewhere, but I kinda lost sight of her. Anyway, good luck and bye!"

Eleanor was leaning against the wall when the transmission ended, doubled over by a laughing fit, breathless gasps escaping her covered mouth as she beheld Elizabeth spluttering attempt to sound nonchalant for Erik.

The brunette was not amused however. The glare she shot at her was like a dagger of pure incandescent hate that put the hottest of fire to shame. Its burning intensity was more than enough for Eleanor to quickly compose herself with a few polite coughs.

"I needed that, thanks," Eleanor smiled sweetly.

"Are you quite done?" Elizabeth pouted, arms crossed over her chest grumpily.

"Sure am," Eleanor straightened her back. "Where to next?"

Elizabeth gazed down at the PDA, solemnity quickly replacing her angry façade as she tapped the digitized map to get a fix on their location.

"I think we're inside the laboratory living quarter," Elizabeth strode down the flickering corridor. "There's a stair leading to the lower level on the other side, let's not waste any time."

"Lead the way then," Eleanor was right behind her, sliding in new shells and giving the forestock a good pumping, the movement more fluid than before. "I think I'm getting the hang this."

"Practice makes perfect I guess. Now we just have to take a right here – Ahhh!"

Elizabeth sprang back from a wide window on one side of the corridor. Eleanor trained her shotgun on the transparent pane to find zombies banging their fists and heads against the glass, hungry maws snapping at them.

Former scientists and workers of Delta lab, transformed into cannibalistic monstrosities by demonic corruption that twisted their bodies and souls into a grotesque parody of humanity. Even now Eleanor was still having a hard time believing the supernatural implication.

Lowering her gun, Eleanor strode over to Elizabeth and hefted her back on her feet.

"You alright?" She asked.

"Yeah," the brunette shivered as she watched the withering mass pushed and shoved against the glass like a school of fish fighting to free themselves from a fisherman's net. Frothing blood and saliva streaked across the window, trailing after gnashing teeth and lolling tongues.

"I'm going to get a heart attack before anything else in this place," Elizabeth shook her head and continued along the passageway, more wary of her surrounding this time.

"Let's just get…."

"There they are! I found them, they're over here!"

Snapping their heads back, Eleanor and Elizabeth found themselves faced to face with a strangely nostalgic sight. A blue clad Founder was pointing his repeater at them while waving his companions over. Soon, the corridor was filled with the ragtag combination of Vox, Founders, Atlas guerrilla and Ryan security. Strange, Eleanor felt both good and bad at seeing their familiar foes, a known enemy was better than the unknown after all.

"Don't move!" The Founder's warning went unheeded as they both dashed down the corridor and swung around a corner just as bullets began whizzing over their heads. Taking cover behind the bend, Eleanor and Elizabeth began dishing out return fire at the pursuing host. A good number of them went down in the salvo, shrieking in pain as their friends dragged them away from the exchanging hail of gunfire.

"There's too many!" Elizabeth yelled over the din as she slammed in a new magazine and pointed down the adjacent walkway, beyond the firefight crossfire. "And the stair is just over there!"

"I know!" Eleanor fired two rounds at a too eager guerrilla, sending the man somersaulting to the ground when the unmistakable heavy thumping of a Big Daddy boots cut through the roaring barrage.

"I can't find any Tear around here!" Elizabeth fired a couple of shots at the closing enemies just as the hulking form of a Rumbler model stomped into view and leveled his big launcher at them. "Oh no!"

Eleanor thought about teleporting them down the hallway but her ADAM had barely replenished, only enough for a few burst of Incinerate and Winter Blast that would do little against a Big Daddy. Casting quick glance around for anything that could help, Eleanor eyes fell on the bulging window where the zombies were now gathered in greater number than before, the carnage drawing them out from the dark.

"Shoot the window! Quick!" Eleanor raised her shotgun and emptied it on the glass pane; Elizabeth's machinegun joining in the staccato as cracks snaked across the transparent surface like rivers of diamond before the barrier shattered in a sparkling crash, and from the ruptured window poured a tide of flesh.

"What the?! Get it off me! Get if off!"

The armed men and women quickly found themselves overwhelmed by the rush of grabbing hands and gnawing teeth. Scream rose in horrid crescendo, many of the Rapture and Columbia soldiers tried to flee but the zombies dragged them back into the mosh of gray body, blood spurted like broken pipes as they feasted on their still living victims. The Big Daddy groaned and was quickly dogpile by the zombies, burying him underneath a mound of decaying bodies.

"Let's get out of here!" Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth wrist and dragged her toward the stair, doing her best to ignore the gurgling cry behind them. The metallic staircase, lit red by emergency light, coiled down as far as they could see, the bare bone structure shook and moaned dangerously with every step they took. The PDA rang after they cleared about ten flights of stair, Elizabeth pressed the screen and Erik voice boomed forth.

"Holy shit Eleanor, dude, that was freaking amazing! Environmental kill for the win!"

"Umm…thanks?" Eleanor took the PDA, her face scrunching in distaste. What she just did wasn't something remotely praiseworthy. Erik thinks otherwise though.

"Oh yeah, and Columbia's here already."

"We kinda noticed that. How many?"

"An army of them from the looks of it, but this is actually a good thing though."

"Please clarify."

"They're fighting the demons! It was really cool dude! Splicers taking on Imps, Big Daddies going up against Pinky Demon, Handymen and Hell Knights beating the holy crap out of each other, damn! This is way better than this year Royal Rumble!"

"Erik, please, you're drifting off again."

"Oh sorry, but yeah, this is good for you two. With those two sides duking it out, you can just slip pass them unseen, they'll be too busy killing each other to notice."

"That's actually a good idea."

"My only advice is to keep your head down and think like you're in a Fallout 3 dungeon."

"…What does that mean?"

"The fight is tearing the lab to pieces, walls tumbles and floor collapses, be on the lookout for short cut that would help you go down faster, okay?"

"Right, got it."

"Oh, and the stairs only goes to the eleventh floor apparently, they rest got destroyed by an explosion. So be prepare, both of you are heading straight into the storm."

"Thank you Erik, we can already tell from the ominously loud echo of death and pain seeping through the dark creepy walls. Where is Yuki anyway? I thought she was supposed to meet up with us a while ago?"

"Honestly? I can't find her, she not responding when I hail her and there's not a trace of her on any of the cameras."

"Do you think she…"

"No, of course not. I know Yuki, she's probably lurking around somewhere."

"If you say so, thanks for the heads up Erik."

"Good luck guys. And by the way, you two make an amazing Rambo cosplayers, its super cool and pretty hot too."

"…What?"

"Anyway, bye for now!"

Like before, the communication came to an abrupt end. Shaking her head briskly, Eleanor handed the PDA back to Elizabeth and took the lead, shotgun reloaded and pointed forward.

After a couple of minutes of wordless descent they came to where the stairs ended. As Erik had warned them, an explosion had ripped the lower section of stairway apart, the flight she and Elizabeth were standing on dangled treacherously from a few rusty strips of scaffolding, every little steps causing the walkway to sway dangerously, a sense of vertigo assailed Eleanor as she stared down at the lightless chasm below.

"We need to jump," Elizabeth pointed at an open doorway with a sturdy looking landing protruding from the wall. "I'll go first."

"Elizabeth, wait!" Before Eleanor could even finished her sentence the brunette was already leaping across the empty air, arms outstretched and legs kicking. She landed, slipped, tripped over her own heel as she tried to find her footing, and barreled into the opening. She appeared a few moments later brandishing a thumps up.

Rolling her eyes, Eleanor jumped after her, landing firmly on the extended walkway and strolled in after Elizabeth.

"That was very reckless of you," Eleanor said sternly. "You could've gotten hurt."

"I'm fine, mum," Elizabeth gave a snarky grin. "Just a little scrapes on the elbow, see?"

"You mustn't misbehave young lady," Eleanor replied playfully. "It is a very improper and unladylike behavior."

"I'm sorry mother, I'll behave next time."

"That you shall, or no treat after dinner."

They were giggling at the banter when a wall in front of them exploded in a reverberating blast of splintered metal and flying pieces of plaster, both yelping loudly before skidding back from the destroyed partition, weapons trained on the gaping hole. Staggering out of the dusty plume was a Bouncer Big Daddy, back hunched low as it slowly limped away, its lacerated and battered body leaking blood and fuel, sparks flew from its damaged drill.

A roar boomed from the veil of smoke and the Big Daddy gave a rumbling bellow in challenge when a colossal shape charged the undersea protector, ramming it against the opposite wall. The creature was massive, sporting a pinkish pigmentation, stacks of boulder like muscles corded its torso, arms and a stump of a head that ended with two tusks jutting out of its mandible. What strike Eleanor as strange was how disproportionately small its hind, mechanical legs were compare to the rest of its body.

The pink monster fell on the Big Daddy in a flurry of claws, each the size of a sword, rending the Protector's armor into torn, bloody shred, the image reminding Eleanor of how a bear go about mauling a man. The Big Daddy fought back desperately, its drill no longer spinning, the Bouncer slammed the large tool on the beast head and stabbed it when the angle presented itself, drawing blood from its fleshy flank.

Roaring its frustration, the pink monster swathed aside the drill and open its maw, revealing rows of jagged yellow fangs, before lunging and snapping its jaws shut just beneath the Big Daddy porthole head where the neck was supposed to be, its tusks thrust into the Bouncer's chest.

Howling furiously, the Big Daddy slammed its drill with desperate frenzy on the creature's head, the force cracking its thick cranium and left bloody gashes across the eyeless face, yet the creature refused to budge. Unleashing its trademark whale like groan, the Big Daddy angled the drill until its sharpened tip was pressed on the pink monster's belly, the task meticulous and calculated despite the creature vicious bite that flung the Bouncer left and right like a ragdoll. Steam hissed as revving motor purred from the Big Daddy's right arm, and before the beast realized what was happening the cylindrical drill started to spin.

A horrific shriek ruptured from the beast. Its jaws sprung loose from the Bouncer's neck, the hulking creature writhed and contorted as the drill bore into its abdomen, streaking scarlet splattered across the floor, walls and ceiling. Eleanor and Elizabeth darted for cover around a bend to avoid the bloody shower.

Its free hand grabbing one of the pink monster's tusks, the Big Daddy roared and pushed the stricken beast back, bulling through another wall like it was wet paper.

"Come on! Leg it!" Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth arm and ran into the hole left behind by the fight, ducking under crumbling teeth of flapping plasters and into a once pristine laboratory, the futuristic working area now resembled Rapture a decade after the civil war. Broken beakers and petri dishes carpeted their path, advance tools of science left neglected and destroyed on the cracked and blood darkened benches, a heavy stench of rot hung heavy over the place.

"Eleanor, slow down!" Elizabeth hissed as they neared a door, rattling gunfire and screams were pronounced beyond the double metallic frames, the dirty windows flanking the exit revealed nothing but bright flashes and quick moving silhouettes.

"Stay close and follow me," Eleanor whispered and edges toward the door, outside the panicky yell of soldiers rose in terrible cacophony, their sobbing pleas ending in a wet rasp of sundered flesh, the steely tune painting hot streams of blood across the glass pane. Fighting down her unease, Eleanor steadied her shotgun and took aimed, Elizabeth mirroring her movement. Even through the thick plate of steel, Eleanor could feel the ominous presence lingering outside, unmoving and waiting, somehow knowing that the two of them were waiting behind the closed door.

The exit slid opened suddenly and a blurry shadow dashed inside, impossibly quick, too fast for her eyes to properly see. It was only after she drew a breath that Eleanor realized that something sharp was pressed firmly on her jugular, the razor edge already parting skin with its gentle touch. It would only take the slightest of movement to get her neck cleaved open.

Beside her Elizabeth gave a strangled choke. Her eyes darting to the left, Eleanor saw that the assailant had pointed the barrel of his pistol on the paling brunette forehead.

"Good to see you two again," the sharp pressure disappeared and the figure stepped back to reveal the lithe form of Yuki.

"You always say hello to people like this?" Elizabeth managed a croaking laugh as she leaned against a desk, inhaling deeply to ease her fright.

"In a fight? Yeah," Yuki holstered her pistol and cleaned her sword by running her forefinger and middle finger across the slightly curved blade, wiping away sheen of carnage in one smooth stroke.

"That was you outside?" Eleanor rubbed her neck.

"Got tired of sneaking around," Yuki shrugged then gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry about the neck, I thought the Founders were waiting for me."

"Good thing you held back."

"Ninja reflex," Yuki grinned and waved for them to follow. "I found a way down to the fifteen level. It's no walk in the park, but it's the quickest way to get there."

The three strode back into the corridor with Yuki taking the lead, the still bleeding corpses of a dozen or so Founders littered their way.

"You did all this?!" Elizabeth couldn't contain her surprise.

"Still think swords are impractical?" Yuki smirked as she gracefully sidestepped the still twitching form of her kills like some Valkyrie prancing over the battlefield. "Got too comfortable with guns and this is what happens. Nothing beats folded steel in tight places like this."

They jogged quickly through the ruined hallway, bodies of humans and demons alike covered the floor in an ankle deep layer of thick sloshing gore, the brutality unleashed here made the fighting back in Rapture look tamed by comparison. Slowing down, Eleanor reached her arm back and took Elizabeth hand, steadying the shaking brunette as they waded across the killing field.

"So much death…" Elizabeth said softly, pain tinged her voice.

"It'll be over soon Elizabeth, just hang on," Eleanor comforted her as Yuki led them into a large rectangular conference room where the floor had partially collapsed into the lower level, held in place by a few protruding strands of rebar. The great slab of cracked concrete and steel had tilted downward to make a sharp slope that descends into what appeared to be a storage room.

"Let's go ladies," Yuki locked the door, sheathed her sword, then drew her two pistols before sliding down to the twelve floor, sweeping the area quickly before smiling suddenly. "Holy shit, you two are lucky, come on down."

"I'll go first this time," Eleanor gingerly stepped toward the edge, giving it a few good taps with her foot before slowly easing down the treacherously smooth surface. She was beginning to find her bearing when she slipped. Squealing, she cartwheeled gracelessly down the short slope, landing painfully on a box of cleaning material.

"Damned Eleanor! Are you alright?" Yuki laughed as she hurried over and pulled the dazed Eleanor up, giving her butts and legs a good dusting.

"Just bruised my face and pride," Eleanor grumbled as Elizabeth glided down to join them, her movement dainty and petite as if she was frolic through a breezy summer meadow. Although embarrassed, Eleanor can't help but felt jealous at the brunette natural grace.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth came to her side.

"Yeah," Eleanor said. "How did you get down so easily?"

"I guess all those books about postures and ball room dances actually helps with my balance. I did tell you to give some of those a read Eleanor, it'll do you a world of good."

"Well, you wouldn't need any of that anymore, here," Yuki led them to what appeared to be a small size elevator. "It's a maintenance lift that goes all the way down to the fifteenth floor, come on."

The three crammed into the tight, porcelain white space as Yuki pushed the button labeled '15'. The doors slammed shut and the elevator began its downward journey.

"We're heading to the teleportation chamber Erik," Yuki spoke into her wrist device. "Get your ass down here."

"Already on my way," came Erik panting reply. "Give me about five minutes."

"We'll be waiting," Yuki craned her head back. "You two comfy back there?"

"It's better than the last time," Eleanor blurted and got an elbow in her side for the trouble. "Ow!"

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth hissed, drawing a raised brow from the Asian girl.

"What last time?" Yuki inquired.

"Nothing! Just forget that we said anything."

"Alright, jeez, I was just asking. Don't need to get all defensive about it."

The elevator ride was blessedly short, saving Eleanor and Elizabeth from more uncomfortable proximity as they both pushed hurriedly passed Yuki, almost knocking the girl over in their haste.

"Are you two claustrophobic or something?" Yuki took the lead again as they headed down the gloomy corridor, no cracks of discharging bullets or snarling demons disturbed them.

"Oh, by the way," Yuki spoke again after they stepped on to a wide walkway which ended at a large double door with the word 'authorize personnel only' plastered across the surface. "First rule of keeping a good poker face: act natural. You're just inviting questions by blushing and squirming like that. Thankfully me and Erik are not the gossipy type, if it was Laura or Henry here…whew! That's gonna be rough. So yeah, just play it cool if you want to keep something private."

"Thanks Yuki," Eleanor said meekly when Elizabeth strode passed, her steps quickening as she overtook the Asian, hands stretched out toward the closed door.

"I can feel it…" Elizabeth fingers twitched excitedly. "There's a Tear inside!"

Moving swiftly to the keypad beside the entrance Yuki punched in a quick sequence of keys, the locking mechanism disengaged with a loud metallic bang. Elizabeth was inside before the doors were half way opened, slipping between the slow moving partitions before Yuki can stop her.

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor yelled and bolted in after her, Yuki bringing up the rear as they rushed into a circular chamber. Inside the cavernous hall were rows upon rows of measuring instruments and electronic panels displaying graphs and myriad of mathematical equations, all arrayed in a perfect circle around two metal pillars. Between these two monoliths shimmered the familiar slit that was the Tear.

And standing before it was Elizabeth, her hand hovering gently over the white laceration.

"Missed it?" Eleanor came to stand beside her.

"A little." Elizabeth snickered.

"So open it then."

Nodding, Elizabeth assumed the stance she always used when opening a Tear: Body bent forward and legs apart, she looked almost like some Far Eastern martial artist getting ready for a fight. Both hands reaching for the quantum breach, her fingers fixed into a claw, she began tearing the scar apart. It yielded with surprising ease, the passage through time and space opening to fill the width and height of the two pillars.

"Go," Yuki nudged her head at the Tear.

"You're not coming?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'll wait for Erik, he shouldn't be long now. You two go on…"

Yuki sentence was interrupted by a bullet bouncing off the floor, the projectile missing her left foot by a few inches. Shrieking, Eleanor and Elizabeth ducked low as gunfire rained down on them. Yuki raised her pistols at the parapet that lined the wall above and unleashed a savage volley on the Vox pouring down the walkway. Many fell screaming from the railing but more pushed onward, their suppressing fire sending Yuki scrambling behind a desk.

"Go!" Yuki waved them toward the Tear.

"But…!" Elizabeth began to protest but girl cut her off with a slew of nasty sounding words in her native tongue.

"Anta baka?! Don't fucking argue with me! Go! I'll hold them off as long as I can!"

Nodding, they both got into a crouch and vaulted into the Tear, landing into yet another corridor, but this one was made of fine polished wood with a nice carpet beneath their feet, and the light was bright and warm.

"Close the Tear!" Yuki static shout came from beyond the silvery threshold. Not arguing, Elizabeth reached her hands toward the glowing slit and brought her palms together as one would a clap.

Nothing happened.

Trading anxious glance with Eleanor, Elizabeth arched back her arms and swung them forward in a powerful, embracing gesture. Yet the Tear remained, unwavering and bright, not responding to Elizabeth command.

"What the hell?" Elizabeth repeated the motion with increasing fervor to no avails.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?! Close the damn Tear!" Yuki demanded harshly.

"I can't! It's not closing!" Elizabeth gave her an equally strong answer.

"The fucking portal must be keeping it open," Yuki reasoned. "I'll shut it down. Erik just showed up a second ago, so it shouldn't be hard. Just run you hear me?! Run! Some of the Vox are already heading for the Tear. I can't hold them back and shut the portal all at once so run!"

"Get DeWitt and Lamb!" Daisy angry command boomed. "But kill the chink and her blonde friend!"

"Bitch! You did not just called me Chinese!"

The cracks of gunfire and stomping boots were drawing nearer when Eleanor and Elizabeth took off down the furnished hall, their hurried footfall muffled by the thick carpet. Turning a few corners, the two were able to put enough distance between them and the Tear that they couldn't hear any sound of pursuing Vox. Stopping to gather their breaths, Eleanor suddenly heard something. Whipping her head around, she found that the noise seems to be emanating all around her. Judging by the guarded look on Elizabeth face, she was also hearing the same thing.

The jittery scratching of rats in the walls.


	18. The Call of the Whispering Horror

"Ew, that doesn't sound good," Eleanor face scrunched in distaste as the crackling of a hundred tiny feet squirmed their way across the pristine corridor around them.

"Strange, this place looks brand new," Elizabeth made her observation and placed a hand on the spotless wall, recoiling immediately when she felt the rustles of moving bodies beneath it. Disgusting. For all the evil that Rapture and Columbia had birthed, at least vermin wasn't one of them.

"Guess we can never judge anything by its cover," Eleanor continued. "Seems to be the one true constant in any world."

"So it seems," Elizabeth nodded and started down the hallway. "Come on, we have to keep moving. We don't know if Yuki and Erik managed to close the Tear yet."

"Okay." Eleanor took her place by Elizabeth side. "Want to guess where we are?"

"Besides the rats," Elizabeth cast a wary glance at their surroundings, the squeaking of vermin were gone now, "this place looks pretty nice all things considered. It's plush, welcoming, and the light doesn't stuttered all the time, a lot better than Delta Lab, that's for sure."

"That, I can agree with," Eleanor sniffed the air. "Smells nice too, someone obviously been keeping this place clean."

"I think we're in a mansion, or a hotel," Elizabeth grimaced at her ragged shirt and belt of armaments. "We're horribly underdressed if that's the case."

"Should we try one of the doors? Maybe someone's home."

"Let's not do that until we are perfectly sure that this place is safe."

"I was kidding Elizabeth…oh! Look! A painting; and a pretty big one at that."

Elizabeth gazed up at the enormous painting above them, and felt fear the like see had never experienced in her life.

The scene painstakingly rendered on the wide canvas was of such exquisite quality that it captured the macabre splendor of the painter's demented vision in its entirety, a glimpse into the depthless depravity that lurked within his or her mind. The painting depicted a swooping panorama of what appeared to be a subway station, showing a man in an early twentieth century clothing gesturing excitedly to the underground surrounding, a tour guide most likely.

But instead of a tourist, what stood beside the excitable man was a ghoul; grotesque abomination birthed from the deepest nightmare of mankind most primeval revulsion.

It was looking over the tour guide's shoulder, flapping tongue hanging from tin lips that parted to reveal rows of leering, jagged sharp teeth, attentive to the man smiling narration of the subway's rich history. And peering from the dark recesses of the subterranean network starred the ghoul's kin, all of them sharing a clear definable heritage yet unique in their own horrid way, mad hungry eyes glaring at the two figures waltzing in the light.

And the details…if there was one element that truly enhances the painting exuding malice, it was the unmatched quality of colors and forms. The ghouls snarling faces, the dirty cracked pavement, the aloof face of the tour guide were rendered with such impeccable skill that it looked almost life like. Elizabeth admitted that if she didn't knew better, she would have assumed that the framed canvas was a photograph.

"Excuse me, but, who are you?!"

So absorbed by the painting, Elizabeth had completely neglected her surrounding; realizing too late that another individual had entered the corridor.

Bolting off their feet with a squeak, Elizabeth and Eleanor skipped gracelessly on their toes as they spun hurriedly to face the man who had spoken, weapons leveled at him, fingers coiling around the triggers. Expecting to see a gruff looking brute, they were instead met with a slender man, skinny to the point of being emaciated, crouching low in fear, gloved hands held forward as if to ward off the guns.

He wore a snappy tailored suit, coat and trouser that covered every inch of his body. But most peculiar detail of all was the pristine porcelain mask he wore, fashioned into an image of a serene face, and a dark hood that shrouded the rest of his head.

"Wait, wait, wait!" The masked man spluttered as he rose to a hunch, both hands held up in surrender. "Don't shoot!"

"Who are you?!" Eleanor demanded.

"I just work here!" He slowly rose to his full height, if he wasn't so lanky his tall frame would've been intimidating. "Look, you're not supposed to be down here."

"What is this place?" Elizabeth now asked.

"You're inside a…museum, a private collection opened to public exhibition. If its money you want, we have a cashier up stair, but please, for the love of God, don't touch anything down here."

"Yo Verl, who are you talking to man?" A new voice boomed from the corner as a trio of young men, all dressed in a very professional looking suit, strode into the corridor. None of them wore masks, which was why the fear on their faces were so pronounced when they saw her and Eleanor.

"Oh shit!" One of them screamed and bolted back behind the bend, his companions briskly following. "I knew this would happen one day!"

"We're under attack!" Another wailed.

"Get security!" Came an especially high pitched squawked.

"No wait! Don't!" The masked man spun to face the three youth peeking around the corner. "This is just a misunderstanding."

Taken aback by the masked man willingness to avoid conflict, Elizabeth head snapped to see Eleanor with the same disbelieving look on her face. It was a nice change of pace after all the monstrosity they've just endured, but she wasn't about to trust someone who hid his face behind a mask. Still, he did sound sincere enough; maybe he really didn't want any trouble? Cursing under her breath, Elizabeth didn't know whether her trusting nature was a boon or a curse. With a sigh, she slowly lowered her gun. Eleanor gave her a sharp look before following suit, much to the audible relief of the masked man and his coworkers.

"Right," Elizabeth began guardedly. "We're not here to rob you."

"But we are lost," Eleanor added. "So the sooner you show us the way out, the better for everyone involved."

"I'm sure I can arrange that," the masked man sounded quite satisfied as he turned to the three youth. "Proceed as usual while I show these ladies the door."

"Are you sure about this Verl?" A dark hair man said. "I mean, how did they got here? Did they dig their way in? What if they came out of one of those…?"

"That's enough William," the man hissed before gesturing for Elizabeth and Eleanor to follow. "Come with me please."

Shouldering her machinegun, Elizabeth took off after the masked man, Eleanor falling in sync beside her. The three youth eyed them for a moment before hurrying down the corridor, hushed conspiratorial whispers echoed back to them as the trio disappeared behind another corner.

"We're being hunted," Elizabeth spoke suddenly, feeling that it's only fair for the man to know the danger their company brings. She didn't want another repeat of Mercy Fall, regardless of whether or not she trusted the man.

The masked man was silent for a moment before speaking, "are your pursuers already inside the museum?"

"We don't know."

"Hmm," the man reached for his belt and withdrew a walkie-talkie. "William, you there?"

"Yeah boss?"

"I'm sending security down there, could be someone else around. If you see anyone, just hide okay?"

"Thanks for the heads up boss, should've know those two were trouble. I mean, they look like they just walked out of a Stallone movie."

"Just get on with your work William, and remember…"

"Be vigilant, sure boss."

Despite the revelation, the man appeared very at ease as he tucked the radio back onto his belt and strolled down the corridor. He didn't spoke again until they reached the foot of a carpeted stairway that led up to a simple wooden door with a bright red neon sign saying 'Exit' above it.

"So, I assume you're not a fan of Pickman's model?"

"Huh?" Eleanor looked at him as they ascend.

"The painting in the hall. You two looked positively petrified by it."

"We weren't frightened!" Eleanor gave a huffing retort. "It's just…we've never seen something so grotesque before. That thing back there can't even be called art."

"That's what they all said," the masked man chuckled as he held the door opened for them. Elizabeth and Eleanor traded unsure looks before taking the man's gentlemanly offer, their eyes never leaving him as they walked into a wide, richly furnished hallway. The pristine style, orderly composition and tone of dark mahogany, complimented by warm orange light that envelop the glass cases and raised dais displaying strange, and very odd looking artifacts, gave the place a very classical feel, Victorian if Elizabeth was being precise.

"The painting used to be on display here," the man closed the door and took the lead again. "But we have to take it down due to numerous complaints and a lot of crying children."

"I'm not surprise," Elizabeth commented.

"I've always found Pickman's work to be rather invigorating though," he went on conversationally. "The man truly got an artistic mind and a pedigree with the brush to match, which was why many of his works were so startling feral and macabre. Shame though that the pressure of finding…inspirations broke his virtuosity and send him on a one way ticket to a padded cell in the Miskatonic Sanitarium, where he lived the rest of his life little better than a frothing mad animal."

"Miskatonic?" Eleanor perked up. "As in, the Miskatonic institute in Arkham Massachusetts?"

"I'm sure you've heard many horrific tales of the cursed Arkham city," the masked man sighed resignedly. "I mean, who haven't? Tourists eat that stuff up and it's not like the city council is doing anything to stop the gossip. Then again," he pointed to his face, "I admit I don't really help much in that department."

"What year is this?" The porcelain face regarded Eleanor quizzically.

"2015." He answered after a moment. "The fourth of February to be precise."

"Do you know Dr. Peaslee?"

"Which Peaslee?" The man asked levelly, but Elizabeth was able to detect a rise of pitch in his tone, a sudden pique of interest that made her very nervous.

"There's more than one Dr. Peaslee?" Eleanor went on.

"Four actually," the man returned his gaze forward, waving quickly at a black clad security guard who glared at them with opened suspicion, twitching hand reluctantly moving away from the holstered sidearm.

"There was a Nathaniel," the man continued as they crossed a gallery dedicated to tribal fetishes. "Then a Wingate, then a Percival and finally an Archibald. Archie is the fourth generation and the only Peaslee still among the living."

"I was actually thinking about the one with a psychology degree."

"Ah, Nathaniel son then. Been dead for three decades now, were you looking for one of his thesis?"

"No…it's just that…I know someone who knows him, that's all."

"Interesting," the man said simply as they approached a towering brass trimmed door that was obviously the entrance. Both wood and metal spotless in its cleanliness, the mirror shine surface shimmered a soft amber hue, a translucent layer that looked almost tangible. Judging from the pitched black windows, Elizabeth assumed that it was night outside.

"Good evening Carol," the man greeted a ginger haired woman seated behind a security counter, her face fixed on a glowing neon monitor. "Thinks it's gonna rain tonight?"

"God, I hope not," the woman, Carol, brushed a stray hair from her face, revealing light speck of freckles on her cheeks. "I don't want to walk home wet for the third time this week…"

Her friendly demeanor hardened into piercing hostility when she saw Elizabeth and Eleanor.

"Whoa! Verl, who the hell are these two?!" Carol leapt off her seat and reached for her holstered pistol. "The place's closed and I don't remember them coming in."

"Why are you so paranoid?" Elizabeth crossed her arms. "This is a museum, not a bank. Are you always this aggressive to other people?"

"Yeah. Especially when they're armed to the teeth," never taking her eyes off them, Carol snatched the phone on the desk and quickly dial the three digit emergency number.

"That won't be necessary Carol," the man gently placed his hand on the plastic handset and guided it back down on the switch hook. "They are simply lost and I'm showing them the door."

"Are you crazy? Look at them," the redhead pointed accusingly at the two. "They must be one of those cultist bastards coming here to take the artifact."

"God, you're insane," Eleanor shook her head in disgust, drawing a nasty glare from Carol whose fingers edges closer to the grip of her pistol.

"No need for any of that now Carol, they're leaving," there was an unmistakable stern undercurrent to the masked man voice. Carol shot him a look of disbelief before she, very reluctantly, lower her hand to the side.

"The key please," the man held out his gloved hand expectantly. Hissing a slew of less than polite words, Carol pulled a drawer opened roughly, withdrew a heavy jangle of keys and slammed it shut with seething force. But instead of handing him the key, Carol strode over to the entrance, the hardened sole of her boots clicking sharp note against the marble floor.

"Here," she unlocked the door and held it open for them.

"Thank you Carol," the masked man walked over to stand beside the fuming redhead, his skinny arm held out toward the exit like a valet at a hotel. "I believe this is where you depart Ms.…oh I'm terribly sorry, but I don't believe I got your names."

"My name is Elizabeth."

"Eleanor."

"Elizabeth and Eleanor…are you two sisters?"

"We're very close friends," Elizabeth corrected him. "We'll be taking our leaves then Mr.…"

"It's Verlassen madam, Verl for short."

"…Your name mean abandoned?"

His head gave a sudden jerk backward, surprised by Elizabeth knowledge of the German language. Being kept isolated in a tower with nothing but endless supply of books does have it perks, she thought grimly.

"Not the most cheery of names, but it is fitting," he said cryptically and nudged his head toward the door. "There's a police station a couple of blocks down the road, if someone is really after you then I suggest you go there as soon as possible. But I might lose the guns; it could send a wrong message after all."

"Thank you for your help Mr. Verlassen," Elizabeth said politely and headed for the exit with Eleanor. "I hope that we haven't caused too much hassle."

"Nothing we can't handle fortunately," Verl nodded. "Have a good evening madam."

"Likewise," Elizabeth managed a friendly smile and finally took this moment to observe the pristine, opulent surrounding. "This is indeed a fine establishment Mr. Verlassen, I wouldn't mind visiting under more temperate circumstances."

"Oh, thank you madam."

"Shame about the rats though."

"…I'm sorry, what?"

"The rats in the walls, there must've been hundreds of them in the basement. Nasty little things, you should really call an exterminator in the morning, don't want them chewing on the displays now, would we?"

Elizabeth halfhearted giggle was received by Verl's chilling silence, while beside him Carol lips twisted into a vicious smirk, like a teacher catching her student red handed in the moment of a crime. With a heavy sigh, Verl's hand went over to the brass handle and very gently eased the door close.

"I'm afraid," there was genuine sadness in his voice as he took the key from Carol, slid it into the keyhole and twist, the doors locking with a crisp metallic clang. "That I'm going to have to ask you to stay."

"We got a code gray, I repeat, we got a code gray, get over to the front desk now," Carol spoke into an intercom on the counter and strut up to them, a smug grin carved sickeningly across her face as she drew her pistol, aiming from the hip. "Give me your guns. Now."

"Like hell we would," Eleanor growled, defiant even when six more security guards walked up to flank them.

"Eleanor, give them the gun," Elizabeth voice was hard as she unslung her assault rifle and handed it to a surprised Carol, the woman obviously had expected more resistance from her.

"But…!" Eleanor began to protest but a piercing look from Elizabeth quickly ended all verbal resistance.

"We don't want to cause any problem for Mr. Verlassen and his associates," Elizabeth went on calmly. "I'm sure this is just another misunderstanding that could be cleared up with a simple conversation. Isn't that right, Mr. Verlassen?"

"I only wish to ask a few questions, madam," Verl assured them. "If you would cooperate, then this will be done swiftly and our two parties can part on a positive note."

"A little too late for that," Eleanor snapped and tossed the shotgun at Carol, smiling when the redhead fumbled to catch the weapon.

"If you would follow me to my office," Verl strode down a side corridor. "Quickly please, time is of the essence."

Jolting into motion, Elizabeth and Eleanor hurried after the surprisingly agile Verl, so smooth and graceful was his movement that he appeared to float above the carpeted floor.

"After you," Verl held an unremarkable door open for them. Expecting some empty and sterilized interrogation room with nothing but a lonely steel table and chair, Elizabeth was surprised to find herself staring into a well-furnished study.

"You guys stay outside," he told the six burly men as Elizabeth and Eleanor entered the room, Carol close on their heels.

"Please take a seat," Verl shut the door and politely waved them over to a comfy looking sofa beside a richly carved coffee table, the flowing floral pattern swirled and gleamed in frozen brilliance. Seating herself down, Elizabeth couldn't help but moan as her stiffened body sank into the plush pillows, the soft and warm fabric easing away the fatigue of their mad dash through the hellish Mars city. Beside her, Eleanor all but slouch on the cushion, a look of pure contentment on her face. Elizabeth didn't have the heart to correct her posture.

"Would you like some tea?" Verl went over to a table near the window and brought over a complete tea set, the white and pink design was an amusing contrast to the room rather dark tone. "Or do you prefer coffee? Maybe I can brew something…"

"Cut it out with the nicety Verl, we're wasting time," Carol spoke up, her snappy and rude attitude reminding Elizabeth somewhat of Laura, minus the vulgarity. The redhead was now inspecting the machinegun and shotgun she'd confiscated from them, holding them easily in each hand.

"What the hell kind of toy guns are these?" She said. "Look like something out of a video game."

"I'm afraid Carol's right," there was a hard shift in Verl voice. "For your own safety and that of ours, you need to answer some of our question."

"We have nothing to hide," Elizabeth pour herself two cups, handing one to Eleanor before taking a sip, the temperature was lukewarm.

"Then let's us proceed," Verl seated himself opposite them. "It concerns the rats you see. How many did you think were down in the basement? Give or take."

"Well, I'm no rat catcher," Elizabeth placed the cup politely back on the tray, doing her best to hide her annoyance at how big of a fuss these people were making out of a simple vermin infestation. "But judging by the sound, I guess a colony worth."

Verl sighed then, heavy and distressed before reaching for the walkie-talkie at his side, pressed the button and spoke into it:

"William, come in. We got a code gray. I repeat, code gray. Take the others to the bunker and stay there until we give the green light."

"We're already in the bunker man!" William replies was frantic with fright.

"Wait? What?!" Verl almost leapt off his seat.

"There was this weird white rip thing in the corridor, all glowing and everything. I swear I heard voices coming out of it when I got close."

Verl porcelain face shot up and looked straight at Elizabeth. "Just stay there William."

"Jesus Christ, am I gonna die?" The boy began to weep.

"No you won't, just stay calm and wait until I get there."

Verl placed the walkie-talkie on the coffee table and rubbed the side of his mask where his temple ought to be before speaking slowly.

"How did you get in here exactly?"

"Would you believe us if we told you?" There was a challenging note to Eleanor.

"You have no idea what we're capable of believing, trust me," Verl said sternly. "So? How?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, unsure whether or not she should tell Verl that they had leapt through a Tear and ended up in his basement by pure chance. The masked man, despite his ominous bearing, didn't appear too hostile, but sharing knowledge of such magnitude was dangerous. She could already see it now. Her honest admission met with scornful disbelief, agitation quickly becoming aggravation as the polite Verl slowly reveals his harsher side. Before long, Carol would probably play an unpleasant part in the interrogation.

But what can they do?

Elizabeth gave a heavy sigh and turned to Eleanor, as if looking for support. Instead, her eyes darted toward Carol, who was hovering over their shoulders. Eleanor nodded quickly, a clear signal stating that she would be ready if the redhead decided to get physical.

Taking a second to collect her thought, Elizabeth said:

"I was able to open a rift in time and space into your basement, thanks to my unique quantum standing," Elizabeth wiggled the thimble on her severed pinky. "I possess the ability to manipulate reality you see? And by using this ability, I opened a portal here by accident. As I said before, we were being pursued and we didn't have time to worry about where we were headed."

Elizabeth waited for the sneering disbelief or the mocking chortling. None came. Verl cold placidity as he turned to regard Eleanor made Elizabeth wished for a more temperate reaction, stillness and silence were never an auspicious reception to the mentioning of her power.

"So do you have the same power?" He inquired.

"Mine is of the more visceral sort," Eleanor lifted up her hand and made a show of summoning the Incinerate plasmid, letting the flames danced over her fingertips before crystalizing it into jagged claws of ice with the Winter Blast. Behind them Carol gave a startled gasp.

"But trust me when I say it's no less dangerous," Eleanor flicked her hand, turning the ice into sparkling wisps that disappeared into the air around them.

"I see," despite the display Verl appeared unperturbed.

Calmly, Verl got off his seat and walked over to his desk, pulled opened a drawer, took something out.

"Do you recognize this?" He placed a bas-relief the size of an average book on the coffee table, on its smooth surface was etched, in rich detail, an effigy of a humanoid with an octopus head crouching on a cyclopean pillar, dragon like wings sprouting from its back. Despite its fantastical, almost silly conception, Elizabeth can't help but felt repulsed the longer she looked at it.

"Do you know what this is?" Verl repeated the question.

"No," Elizabeth answered shakily, "should I?"

"I suppose not, some knowledge is better left unlearn," the masked man picked up the bas-relief and returned it to the drawer in his desk. "The human race lives on an island of ignorance and we were not meant to venture far from our little sanctuary and into the surrounding dark infinity."

"That's rather grim," Eleanor said.

"It's the truth, I'm afraid," Verl shrugged. "Although in this case, I find you ignorance comforting."

"We're not really fans of macabre expressionism," Eleanor continued.

"Not many people are."

"I'm sorry Mr. Verlassen, but I don't quite follow any of this," Elizabeth straightened her back, assuming a more forceful posture. "Why are you asking us these questions? What significant does it have to do with our presence here? We were forthcoming in our honesty of the power we possessed, and although we appreciate your decorum in receiving such news, I must confess that your constant avoidance of your true intention is getting rather tiresome. If you are worry that our power will cause trouble, then I urge you to let us go. The longer we stay, more of those white glowing scar your coworkers found are going to emerge."

"I thank you for your honesty Elizabeth, but I must insist on being vague in regard to my apprehension," Verl went on. "But I understand your unease, I truly do, but trust me when I say that your power is not a…unique occurrence in our line of work."

"What do you mean?" Color drained from Elizabeth face then. What did he mean not unique? Did Columbia somehow got here before her? Were they in league? She gazed across the coffee table and wonder if she could lunge for the man if something happens.

"One of our most diligent collaborator holds mastery over such ability," Verl went on, his voice rather expectant. "A certain Mr. Master?"

"The big fellow with a scruffy beard and long shaggy hair?" Eleanor blurted brightly, even Elizabeth smiled knowing that this strange man is an acquaintance of Mr. Master.

"When he's not in official capacity," there was a hint of amusement coming from the masked man. "But yes, the one and the same." Verl sank back into his couch then, his skinny frames relaxing visibly. "So you know him? That's good to hear."

"You know they could be lying, don't you?" Carol glared down at them.

"Now Carol…"

"Mr. Master have partners working with him," the redhead continued, ignoring Verl attempt at supplication. "How many of them are there?"

A wicked smile split Eleanor face as she folded her arms smugly over her chest and said. "There are eight of them. The Eight, I believe they called themselves."

The corner of Carol's eye twitched agitatedly at the correct answer, "what are their names?"

"Let see…" Eleanor gave her chin a thoughtful tap. "There's Tangmo, he's from Taiwan…no wait! Thailand! He's from Thailand."

"He'll be so hurt that you can't even remember where he's from," Elizabeth gave an exaggerated sad pout.

"Oh shut it!" Eleanor waved her off. "Anyway, who else? There's Yuki, she's from Japan. Henry, he's a New Yorker. Laura, the perpetually angry Englishwoman. Lita, she's from Central America, Mexico if I remember correctly. Erik and Nikki, they're European. And finally Damien, I think he's Henry neighbor."

Carol conceded with a huff, Eleanor victorious smirk oozed venomous satisfaction.

"Happy Carol?" Verl asked.

"Whatever," Carol grumbled and stalked off into the far corner to brood.

"Mr. Master is a good friend of ours," Elizabeth said. "And since we've ran afoul of our pursuer, he and the Eight have been doing their best to help. Unfortunately, we got separated during a rather hectic scuffle and haven't been able to get in touch since."

"I see," Verl nodded. "You're free to wait here until he catches wind of your where about."

"You know how to get a hold of him?"

"No, unfortunately. He shows up when he pleases, usually without warning. We have no means of contacting him."

"Oh…"

"But I think Howard can," Verl reached into his coat and withdrew a flat device that looked like a miniature PDA. "I'll give him a quick call and ask what he can do."

Verl was tapping the screen with his finger when a very audible, but muffled, staccato of discharging guns reverberated through the museum. Carol bolted from the room's dark corner and reached for her walkie-talkie.

"This is Carol, what's happening down there?" She demanded. "Anyone there? Hello?"

"Gunfire down in the basement boss," a man voice boomed. "I'm taking Xi, Tommy, Leo, Andy and Anton with me to check it out, stand by."

"Why are there people coming after you again?" Carol placed their futuristic weapons down on the coffee table and drew her own sidearm.

"One can't easily escape the past," now it was Elizabeth turn to be cryptic as she reached for the assault rifle, pausing for a moment before Carol gave a curt nod for them to take the guns.

"But they're just ordinary people right?" Carol asked.

"I can assure you there is nothing supernatural about them."

"That's good to…"

"Code red! Code red! We got a fucking code red!" The panicky voice of the same man squawked through the radio.

"What the fuck?! I thought you said people were shooting each other down there!"

"They were, and we found what's left of them. Fucking shoggoths were tearing them to pieces; those slimy bastards were pouring through the white rip thing that William had been hollering about over the com."

"Get everyone out of there Victor, and seal the basement. Nothing goes in or out do you hear me!"

"We're heading for the stair no – look out!"

A crescendo of screams erupted in tandem with the rapid firing of guns and inhuman shrieking.

"Fucking Star Vampire! Andy's hurt!" Victor shouted.

"I'm on my way with the medics, hang on," Carol threw the door open and rushed out, leaving the frame hanging ajar.

"You two better stay here," Verl slipped the device back into his coat pocket and headed for the exit, "things are about to get quite ugly."

"I have to get down there," Elizabeth announced firmly.

"Excuse me?" The mask man was flabbergast.

"Whatever is happening it's my fault," Elizabeth pressed on. "Those white rip are call Tears, a rift in reality. I'm its conduit, everywhere I go they follow me and appear at random. I can shut it and stop…whatever it is that's coming through."

"Absolutely out of the question, you have no idea what's down there. So please, for the love of God, don't meddle in what you don't understand."

"We already fought across literal hell, I think we can handle ourselves."

"Hell?" Verl laugh was bitter. "Hell is a nursery playground compare to what's down there."

"Look…" Elizabeth said slowly. "We need to help each other. I can help you stop these…sagos? From destroying the museum but if the Tear isn't closed, then more are just going to keep coming through. I appreciate your concern, I really do, but please let us help."

The porcelain façade was unchanging as Verl regarded her tensely, only the distant scrambling and shouting of security guards hovered over the silence between them. Then with a great, leaden exhale Verl hurried down the corridor and waved for them to follow. Sharing a triumphant smile with Eleanor, Elizabeth skipped after him.

"I'm going to regret this," Verl shook his head. "But if the company Mr. Master keeps is anything to go by, you might come out of this, hopefully, minimally scathed."

"I'm sure we can handle these sagos," Elizabeth said confidently.

"Its shoggoth and no, I doubt you can handle them."

Elizabeth was about to retort when Eleanor suddenly took her arm and slowed her steps, making sure that Verl was out of earshot.

"Are you sure about this?" Eleanor kept her voice down.

"We have to help them Eleanor," Elizabeth said. "It's our fault this is happening."

"I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about these sogut things."

"Shoggoth actually."

"Whatever. The point is, I don't like the sound of these things. And Star Vampires? What's up with that?"

"I'll admit, the names are pretty colorful."

"Elizabeth, listen to me," Eleanor squeezed her arm tight. "Those people said the shoggoth came out of a Tear, right?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't remember you opening one down there, so how did they got through?"

When Elizabeth didn't answered Eleanor continued:

"Anything from a parallel universe will only be able to interact with this plain of existence if you pull them through. If you didn't open a Tear then nothing can cross over and muck up this side of reality. But if the security guard's words are anything to go by, then these things somehow managed open the Tear from the other side."

"Maybe they just followed the Vox from Delta lab."

"Then how did the guards have a name ready for them?"

"Are you seriously suggesting that the shoggoth can manipulate Tears?"

"Looks that way. Is it possible though?"

"I don't know. After our little trip through Mars city…God, there's so much that we don't know."

"Kinda make you wish you were still omniscient, huh?"

"That would be rather ideal, even if it didn't help much last time."

"Oh well, I guess we're heading into the unknown guns blazing again," Eleanor managed a weak smile. "Not gonna lie, I'm getting a little nervous right now."

"Nothing wrong with being afraid," Elizabeth gave her a reassuring tap on the shoulder. "Just remember to be dauntless when facing it."

"I'll do my best," Eleanor nodded firmly as they jogged across a large gallery of esoteric oddity; statues and effigies of primal design watched their passing with bulging, unblinking eyes. More security personnel were now gathered around the door leading down to the basement, arming themselves to the teeth with vast array of weaponries that bears striking resemblance to what the Eight used.

"What the hell are you two doing down here?!" Carol barked as she tightened the tourniquet around a spiky haired woman bleeding thigh, the added pressure eliciting a painful yelp from her.

"Oh, shut up you big baby, you been through worse," Carol got up and wiped her hands before waving to the woman's companions. "Take her to the infirmary and checked all the other doors leading to the basement."

They nodded as a man with long hair done up in an elaborate braid slid his arms under the injured woman and lifted her up in a rather heroic pose, like that of a knight rescuing a princess. Loud hooting and cheers accompanied the six guards as they strode away, the spikey hair woman was burning bright red but didn't seems too uncomfortable in the big man's arm.

"Seriously, what are you doing here?" Carol asked again.

"We're here to help," Elizabeth answered, cradling the assault rifle close to her chest.

"Verl, what the hell?!" The redhead shot the masked man a disbelieving look.

"She said she can close the portal the shoggoth are using," Verl state matter-of-factly.

"And you believe them?" Carol was far from mollified.

"I consider myself a good judge of character, so yes, I believe them."

"I swear Verl, one day you're going to get us all kill."

"Well, I hope it's not tonight."

"Verl!"

The masked man gave a low chuckle and pulled a keychain from his belt, picked out the key he was looking for and slide it gently into the keyhole, turning it with a sharp click.

"Are you two sure about this?" Verl gave them both one more concerning look.

"We are," Elizabeth nodded, Eleanor concurring quickly.

"Your funeral then," Carol shrugged carelessly and signaled the ten man security team to form up behind her, the excessive armament they carried went above and beyond the average requirement of museum night watchmen. Besides the guns and armors, Elizabeth noticed that two of them were carrying large cylindrical pack on their backs; a black hose stretching from the bottom to connect with a gun shaped metallic dispenser. The sight reminded her of flamethrower wielding marines fighting in the Pacific.

"Alright, let's go then," Verl threw the door open and glided down the stairs, Elizabeth and Eleanor hot on his heels with Carol and the security team trailing behind.

"You know you don't have to come with us right?," Carol came to stand beside Verl.

"A good leader always leads from the front," Verl puffed his chest out proudly.

"I just saw Jurassic World, that Indian guy said the same thing before he got killed. Stupid scene, but the movie was pretty good."

"I like the first one better."

Carol grumbled something unintelligible as the column moved quickly through the brightly lit corridor, the warm glow doing little to dispel the oppressive silence that draped over them like a heavy shroud. Surrounded by more of Pickman's ghoulish creation, the furnished hallway couldn't have been more sinister, the pristine cleanliness doing little to ease Elizabeth rising trepidation.

"Wait, hold on," Eleanor stopped suddenly, bringing the column to a halt. "Something's not right here."

Carol gave a quick hand signal and raised her pistol, the barrel steady as she gave the corridor a quick sweep. Behind them the securities were fanning out, their weapons braced and ready.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth held the machinegun tight in her grip.

"I don't know," Eleanor eyes darted nervously around the hall. "But I swear something's wrong."

"Keep your eyes peeled people," Carol voice echoed down the line.

"What do you mean something's wrong?" Elizabeth was scooting closer to Eleanor when a bloodcurdling scream ruptured behind them. Spinning around, they saw one of the security guard hovering above the ground, arms and legs flailing like a puppet being jerked around by a demented puppeteer. His struggle stopped when thick indention began curling deep vises around his neck and limbs. His howling resumed when circular incisions started appearing on his body, blood poured from the wound, swirling in midair for a moment before flowing upward.

That was when it began to take shape.

With the victim's blood now coursing through its body, Elizabeth could make on a gelatinous mass of writhing red tentacles, the shape and composition growing more pronounced with every passing seconds. At the end of each slithering appendages were suckers lined with rows of sharp, and very large, talon like teeth, tittering with manic eagerness as more serrated maws latched onto the paling man, his struggle moments from ceasing.

"Open fire! Open fire!" The room erupted in a thunderous staccato as every guns unleashed its payload on the bulbous mass of tentacle. The octopus like thing, the Star Vampire judging by its sanguine appetite, shrieked furiously and threw the man straight at Elizabeth. She ducked in time as the limp body flew over her head and collided into Verl and Carol. The Star Vampire gave a deranged cackle as its pulsating mass bulged upward, twitching tendrils of snapping teeth latching to the walls on either side, knocking out lights and sending painting crashing to the ground. Ignoring the bullets peppering its voluminous bulk, the Star Vampire started propelling itself over the group.

"Don't let it get away!" the security with the flamethrower bellow as he turned the dials on his dispenser.

"No he won't!" Eleanor's palms gleamed wintry white as she unleashed a salvo of Winter Blast at the Star Vampire slithering limbs. The inhuman laughing quickly turned into an indignant roar as thick sheet of ice coated over the monster's slippery hind, freezing it to the walls, leaving it immobilized and hanging above the security team like a fleshy, living chandelier.

The armed men and women spared Eleanor a brief startled glance before quickly backing off from the enraged Star Vampire as the two flamethrower men cautiously approached the trapped abomination.

"Clear!" One of the men yelled and pulled the trigger on his dispenser, his partner mirroring his action, unleashing a spray of bluish green substance on the Star Vampire. The red monster's scream was unearthly in its cadence and repulsive in its bestial resonance. Thankfully, the unholy baying came to a quick end when the Star Vampire body stop twitching, its swollen, stinking form slumping downward until, with a wet snap, it flopped gracelessly to the floor, the frozen tentacles no longer able to support the dead weight.

The two men continued to spray the remains, the glistering flesh fizzled and bubbled like it was touched by acid. Soon enough, nothing but a thick, rotting puddle remained of the Star Vampire.

"Is he going to be alright?" Eleanor hurried over to the man that got attack, kneeling down beside him as Carol pressed her fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse.

"He'll live," Carol announced and waved for the other securities. "You four, take him to the infirmary." They nodded wordlessly before carrying the unconscious man away and out of sight.

"That could have gone worse," Carol turned to Eleanor, a hint of a smile on her lips. "You did good, thanks."

"Don't mention it," Eleanor nodded.

"My mask…" Verl voice was barely a whisper. "Please…my mask."

Elizabeth gazed down at her feet and saw the porcelain mask lying close by, slightly cracked and smeared by swathe of blood but still whole. Reaching down, Elizabeth picked it up and looked around until she found the skinny man huddle under a broken lamp, face buried between his knees, the blotch of darkness enveloping him like a thick blanket.

"I got it Verl," Elizabeth approached him. "Here."

"No!" Verl waved his hand frantically and shrank deeper into the shadow. "Don't come any closer! Please!"

Elizabeth froze, in that moment when Verl squirmed away a stray beam of light landed on him, revealing a brief glimpse of what he had so vehemently hidden beneath the mask. She saw flesh, not the healthy pink kind but shriveled, decayed flaps of gray that peels from the slightest of touch. What remained of the necrotic skin was drawn to a breaking point over his skull, torn like a dirty canvas in some places and almost transparent in the other. Elizabeth felt sickened, this man laying before her shouldn't even be alive. Yet here he was, trembling beneath her, arms and hands raised to shield his deformity.

"Please…" his voice was cracking now, on the verge of tears. "Please don't look at me…please…"

"It's alright Verl, it's alright," Elizabeth voice was a soothing melody as she knelt down and held out his mask, her eyes showing no fear or revulsion. "Here, don't be afraid."

"Please look away," Verl sobbed. "Please. I can't let you see me like this."

"Okay Verl," Elizabeth smiled and turned her cheek as Verl snatched the mask from her hand and quickly pressed it on his face, fumbling with the straps until the porcelain façade was firmly secured over his real visage.

"Thank you," he sniffed.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth extended her hand. After a moment of hesitation, Verl took it and was slowly raised to his feet.

"I'm sorry that you have to see that," Verl pleasant demeanor quickly returned as he wiped dust and grime off his suit.

"We don't judge people on how they look," Eleanor came to stand beside Elizabeth.

"If only the world was so generous then this mask wouldn't be necessary," Verl continued somberly. "Alas, I've made peace with myself and my place in the world. And judging by the position I find myself in right now, I'll say that the universe have been more than generous with me."

"Yeah, you got a friend like me," Carol smiled and gave him a friendly, albeit hard slap on the back.

"Thank you Carol," Verl rolled his shoulder slowly. "Ouch."

"Right then ladies," the redhead announced to the remaining security personnel. "Let's get this over with, it's late and I want to go home."

"Are you sure there's no more of those octopus thing lurking around?" Eleanor asked when the column started moving again. "We didn't hear it coming the last time."

"Star Vampires don't hunt in packs," Carol explained. "And even if we're unlucky enough that there's more around, the death scream would've attracted the other one here by now. They're cannibals."

They were reaching a junction when Carol held up her fist, halting the advance. Pressing her back flat against the wall, Carol very slowly, very cautiously, peeked her head into the corridor to the right. Even from this distant, Elizabeth could hear a wet slurping sound coming from the other side of the wall, the thick sluggish lapping sending shiver of disgust down her spine.

"Four of them down the hall," Carol voice was sharp and hushed. "I want them stunned before we douse them," she gave her pistol a quick check over and squared her shoulders, "ready?"

Everybody began checking their ammos while Elizabeth gazed down at her own assault rifle, the digitized counter that also served as the iron sight showed that she only have fifty rounds left in her last magazine. She turned to see Eleanor giving her own shotgun a critical look, her brows scrunching in annoyance before shrugging.

"Steady," Carol heaved a deep breath then exhaled in a slow, controlled stream before swinging around the corner.

"Give them hell!"

Forming a loose line that encompassed the width of the corridor, Carol, Elizabeth, Eleanor and the security team unleashed a brilliant barrage down the corpse strewn hallway, the Vox crushed and crumbled bodies laid in broken heap on the carpeted floor. It was now that Elizabeth finally saw the shoggoth. It was a…blob, for the lack of better terms. A bulging mass of shapeless bubble that churned and roiled like wet clay, the formless body glowing a strange shade of luminescent that Elizabeth can't quite name. Twisted limbs protruded from its body at random interval, but most obvious were the floating eyeballs, dozen of them, lolling and drifting seemingly without purpose or direction.

Now, all of those eyes were turned toward them, a low bestial moan rumbled from misshapen mouths, the timbre so powerful that hall shook to its roaring tenor.

"Spray them!" Carol backed away when all the guns clicked empty, the two flamethrower men stepped forward and released their deadly payload on the shoggoths. Like the Star Vampires they died in agony, the chemical substance dissolving the shoggoths into nothing but steaming putrid splotch.

"Okay, that's enough, don't waste the juice," Carol bellowed when the corridor became soaked to the ankle. "So…can you take care of that then?"

A medium size Tear stood glowing at the end of the hall. Beyond the stuttering threshold Elizabeth could see a strange landscape composed of weird geometry and impossible structure that defined the established law of physics. Shoggoths in uncountable numbers roamed the alien plateau, and they were all heading for the shimmering quantum gate.

With a squeak, Elizabeth thrust her hands toward the laceration and slammed the wound shut with a great swooping swing of her arms.

"That's it?" Carol sounded almost disappointed.

"Yeah?" Elizabeth gave her an annoyed look. "What did you thought was going to happen?"

"I don't know, something more. Like, your body start glowing and flying, or maybe you start reciting an incantation or something, not just…that."

"Well, sorry to have disappointed you."

"Oh trust me, we weren't disappointed," Verl said as he tiptoed over corpses and wet stains on the carpet. "Thank you Elizabeth, Eleanor."

"You're welcome Verl," Elizabeth offered him a smile, which he reciprocated with a nod.

"I guess that's that," Eleanor said. "Can we go now?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Verl offered. "I already called Howard; he can probably get a hold of Mr. Master. It'll only be a couple of hours."

"The longer we stay here," Eleanor began, "chances are more of the Tears are going to show up, and God's know what else can come through. It wouldn't be safe for us here, and it most certainly won't be for you. I think it's better if we just leave."

"If you insist," Verl held out his hand to Elizabeth and Eleanor, both firmly took it and shook. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Eleanor flashed him a pretty grin when a security guard fumbled into the corridor, bent over against a wall and breathing hard.

"Another…" he tried to catch his breath, "another one of those white things just showed up near the vault, this one's big."

"Told ya," Eleanor said playfully before turning to the man. "Where?"

"This way," he gathered his breath and led them down the corridor at a jogging pace, panting with every labored steps. Taking a few sharp corners, the group finally came upon a large Tear, similar to the one Elizabeth had opened up when she and Eleanor were drowning. Despite the size, nothing could be discerned within the bright quantum arch.

"Guess we know what to do," Eleanor shifted her grip on the shotgun.

"Yeah," Elizabeth concurred and began striding toward the portal with Eleanor.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Carol watched them with unhidden apprehension.

"Leaving," Elizabeth said simply. "If we were to leave this reality completely then the quantum anomalies would ceased in its entirety. No more Tear will sprung up if the conduit," she pointed to herself, "was no longer around."

"But where will you go?" Verl asked.

"We don't know. Hopefully someplace where there's no shoggoths or Star Vampires."

"But judging by our recent streaks of luck, we might be heading into something worse," Eleanor gave a chuckle.

"Thanks for that Eleanor," Elizabeth gave her a sharp chiding.

"Just trying to keep our spirit up," Eleanor said innocently.

Elizabeth just rolled her eyes and turned back to Verl and Carol, "thank you for everything Mr. Verlassen, Carol. I hope we'll meet again under better circumstances."

"Like wise Ms. Elizabeth, Ms. Eleanor. Until next time," Verl bowed politely.

"Um…" Carol eyes were fixed on the Tear, a finger rising to point at the glowing arch, stark fear paling her face. "Is it supposed to be doing that?"

"Huh?" Elizabeth spun and saw that the Tear was…leaking? Long, salivating line of dark puss like liquid was oozing down the curving rim of the Tear in slow, lethargic rivulet. Like an affliction, the black intrusion began creeping across the bright threshold, veins of cancerous sickness snaked across the surface until the bright luminescent white dimmed to a smoky ebon.

"Elizabeth, what's happening?" Eleanor's face darted between her and the diseased Tear.

Elizabeth was about to answer when she started hearing voices, incomprehensible whispers breathing from the very walls, growing in horrid volume and chaotic tempo with every heartbeats. Elizabeth slammed her palms over her ears, a futile gesture in blocking out the unholy choir of maddening noise. Her vision blurring from the pounding onslaught of sound, she could barely make out the crouching form of Eleanor beside her, or of Verl and Carol leading the other guards away to safety.

Soon the maelstrom of barbaric recitation began to devolve into a more primeval pronunciation, enunciation becoming bestial baying, a screaming howl of a thousand rats. In that jumble of inhumanity, Elizabeth heard four words spoken to her, clear and husky, as if the speaker was standing beside her ears:

" _I…Am…The…Gate_."

"We got to go!" Spurred by the sudden rush of self-preservation, Elizabeth dashed toward Eleanor and dragged her toward the Tear. "Come on!"

"No!" Eleanor dug her heels into the slime soaked carpet. "I am not going in there!"

"Something else is coming through, we need to get out of here before it reaches the Tear!" Elizabeth gave the collar of Eleanor's shirt a hard yank, pulling the uncooperative girl toward the darkening Tear. "Move!"

Using everything ounce of energy she had, Elizabeth threw herself and Eleanor into the Tear. They both landed hard on smooth asphalt, the demonic voice coming to an abrupt, some would say anti climatic, end the moment they vaulted through the quantum opening.

"Close it! Close it!" Eleanor shrieked and Elizabeth spun to face the black Tear. With a quick swipe of her hands, the scar closed without protest, much to her surprise and relief.

"Thank God," Eleanor laid sprawled, spread eagle and very unladylike, on the ground, her chest heaving great lungful of air. Elizabeth herself was seated down beside her, knees drawn up to her chin, fighting back the powerful shivers that had assailed her.

"What the hell was that?!" Eleanor got back on her feet after a moment and extended a hand to Elizabeth who gratefully accepted the assistance.

"I don't know," Elizabeth felt the last frightful chill left her. "And I don't want to know."

"Probably a good idea," Eleanor cast a quick glance around them. "Now where in the world are we?"

Elizabeth slowly took in their surroundings. It was night again and they appeared to be standing in the middle of an alley between low roof houses. Faint yellow light shone through the sliding doors of wood and paper canvas, red oval lanterns bearing oriental calligraphy hung from the low lintel, swaying softly in the breeze. In that moment Elizabeth found herself thinking back to when she and Booker were fighting through the Halls of Heroes, the architectural style reminding her of the display about Comstock exploits during the Boxer Rebellion.

"I think," Elizabeth began guardedly. "We're in China."

"No," Eleanor strode closer to the lantern, examining it with intense scrutiny. "No, definitely not China."

"How do you know?"

"This is not a Chinese lantern, no, it's a Chochin."

"Okay…so where are we then?"

"I think we're in Japan."


	19. Persecution of the Masses

"Are you sure we're in Japan?" Elizabeth edges closer to the Chochin lantern, her hand rising to graze the brittle paper fabric.

"I'm sure," Eleanor nodded and waved her hands down both side of the alley. "You can tell by the building itself. Most Chinese home are stones and bricks while the Japanese ones are more inclined toward carpentry."

"I see," Elizabeth turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "When did you became an expert on Asian architecture?"

"The implanted memories," Eleanor pointed at her head. "One was an American dignitary stationed in Shanghai and the other was a Japanese scientist named Daisuke…something. I'm pretty sure Suchong killed him."

"Ah, that's a shame," Elizabeth gave the neighborhood a quick look around. "Kinda quiet considering how every light is still on."

"I know, it's really strange," Eleanor approached the door and was sliding it open when Elizabeth gave a startled squeak.

"Eleanor! Don't do that!"

"Do what?" Eleanor gave her a quizzical look when the brunette suddenly leapt for the door and slammed it shut. "Hey!"

"We can't just go around barging into other people's houses!" Elizabeth was so heated in her declaration that it left Eleanor flabbergasted. They were still on the run, so how was this important? Who cares if they take a few shortcuts to get somewhere, it's not like they were going to be here that long anyway.

"I'm just gonna take a quick peek, there's no harm in that," Eleanor reasoned but Elizabeth quickly grabbed her arm before it could move toward the flat circular handle. Okay, now this was getting annoying.

"There isn't anyone inside Elizabeth," Eleanor tried to pull away but Elizabeth refused to let go, her grip firm and unmoving.

"It's not right!" Elizabeth was adamant, lips pursed and cheek straining red.

"Nobody's going to know."

"That's even worse!"

"Would you let go already?"

"At least knock first."

"Ugh! Fine!"

Shaking Elizabeth off, Eleanor straightened her back, dusted herself and politely knocked on the wooden door. When no answer came, Eleanor balled her hand into a fist and pommeled the frame; the entrance gave a nasty, splintering groan as the partition wobbled violently to the impact.

"I think the entire neighborhood heard you now," Elizabeth gave a snarky comment.

"Hey, it's your idea," Eleanor was reaching for the handle again when a piercing wail rented the air.

"Great," Eleanor shook her head sardonically, alarmed by the siren but not in any way surprised, calamity was becoming something of a running theme for them. Why can't they show up on a warm tropical beach for a change? Or a mansion filled with nice food and wine? Hell, was it too much to ask for a little rainbow and unicorn? It's like the universe was taking great entertainment in seeing them suffer.

"An air raid siren," Elizabeth glanced down the row of houses. "Shouldn't everybody be rushing to a bomb shelter?"

"Maybe they left in advance," Eleanor gave her shotgun a pump then pulled the trigger, the weapon clicking empty. "Loose the guns."

"What? Why?" Elizabeth asked as Eleanor opened the door and stashed the gun inside the welcoming porch.

"Because we're two foreigners in a hostile country, and walking around with a gun isn't exactly a good idea. Here, give them to me," Eleanor took the machinegun and placed it next to the shotgun.

"I guess you're right," Elizabeth looked up at the starless sky. "Let's get out of here."

"Elizabeth, wait!" Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth wrist and pulled her toward a smaller side alley behind the house they were about to enter. "We need to keep out of sight, we can let anybody sees us."

"Is that really necessary?" Elizabeth asked as they squeezed through the narrow path.

"If the Japanese finds us, they'll think we're spies working for the Allies," Eleanor poked her head around a corner and quickly took a right. "I read about what they did to female prisoners in Nanking and Singapore, trust me, you don't want to get caught."

Behind her Elizabeth gulp loudly and gave a weak 'okay', in responses.

"Don't worry," Eleanor gave her a smile as they rounded a bend. "I'll keep us safe."

Jogging on to a wide street, Eleanor was greeted by a blockade of jeeps, trucks and hastily constructed pillboxes. Manning these obstructions were a dozen Japanese soldiers. Skidding to a stop, Eleanor could only gawk as the startled soldiers turned as one to look at them, so surprised by the pair sudden appearance that none raised their guns or sounded any alarm.

"Oh no…" Elizabeth muttered softly as Eleanor began backing toward her, her hands reaching back and catching air a few times before latching firmly on the brunette's hand.

"Get ready to run," Eleanor hissed, her eyes never leaving the Japanese as they began to advance, slow and cautious, moments from lunging at them. She was about to sprint in the opposite direction when a commotion rumbled behind her, followed by Elizabeth petite yelp. Glancing back, she saw a large group of people coming up the street. Civilians, carrying whatever livelihood they could in bulging packs balanced on their hunched backs. Some were pulling rickshaws stacked a couple of feet high with furniture, other got nothing but the clothes on their back, while a few women carried children close to their chest in a makeshift bundle, those that can run scampered to keep up with their parents.

They were being directed by a group of police and soldier, and despite the chaotic moshing that came with a stampeding crowd, everything was moving in an admirably organized fashion.

Eleanor flinched when a policeman jogged ahead of the mob and began pointing and shouting in their direction. The soldiers at the barricade gave an enthusiastic 'hai!' and four rushes out of the pillbox and went to assist the fleeing civilian, ignoring them completely, much to Eleanor relief.

"Eleanor…" Elizabeth scooted close when one of the soldiers began walking toward them, his rifle slung over his shoulder, palms held out in a supplicating gesture.

"You, come," the man waved them over, struggling with the English language. "Come. We help. Come please."

Eleanor didn't budge an inch, did he thought they would be stupid enough to trust him?

"Please, please," he continued with more urgency. "Come, come."

"Not another step closer," Eleanor growled at him, plasmid heat prickling her palms. The round face man stopped in his track, feet shuffling uneasily where he stood, caught between the need to perform his duty and the risk of fording through Eleanor's permeable, and soon to be lethal, hostility. He was weighing in his options when one of his comrades appeared, jogging hurriedly with another man in tow, a tall American solider with a military police armband.

"Martin-san!" The man gave a relief sigh and bowed at the MP, who return the greeting rather awkwardly. "Please, speak English."

"It's okay Taro, I got this," the MP pointed his flashlight at them. "Well, that's not something you see every day."

"You don't say," Eleanor raised her hand to shield the light.

"British too! Now that's something," the young MP gave a laugh.

"Can you not point that thing at me?"

"Oh! Sorry!" He quickly put the torch away and held out his hand politely. "Come with me, we'll get you to safety."

"Thanks, but we can manage," he appeared somewhat crestfallen by Eleanor rebuttal, but nonetheless kept up his friendly demeanor as he led them through the throng of panicky civilian toward a row of waiting trucks. He sprinted toward the nearest, have a quick chat with the Japanese soldier standing guard, who bobbed his head quickly as the MP ushered them over.

"There's still room inside," he pointed to the cavernous interior filled with wide eyed people, silent and scared, their belongings piling high to graze the taut canvas roof. "Need a hand?"

"We got this," Eleanor helped Elizabeth up into a seat near the rear before following suit. "Thank you."

"All in a day's job mam."

"Wait!" Elizabeth leaned over Eleanor's lap, getting the MP attention before he could walk away. "What's going on here? What's happening?"

The MP mouth hung open, dumbfounded by the question.

"You…you don't know what's going on?" He looked at Elizabeth like she was an idiot. "You've been living under a rock or something?"

"Would you just tell me then?!"

Elizabeth answer came in the form of a powerful tremor, the truck stuttering off the ground to the sound of crashing objects and shrill cries of adults and children alike. Scrambling to her seat, Elizabeth let out a yelp when, after a brief pause, the quake resumed, coming in an unnatural timed tempo like the slow beating of a great drum.

"Oh God…" the MP began backing away from the truck; around him the Japanese soldiers wore the same look of abject fear. "Get the trucks moving! Move it! Hayaku! Hayaku!"

Without warning the truck lurched into motion, the sudden jerk throwing Elizabeth roughly into Eleanor. Pushing the brunette upright, Eleanor could only watch as the MP disappeared behind the thickening veil of rising dust before getting blocked completely from view as another truck fall in behind them, leaving her no wiser as to what kind of trouble they had landed themselves in this time.

But as they passed by what appeared to be a communication tent, the convoy came to a brief stop and Eleanor was able to discern the radio chatter before the truck began moving forward again:

"…Target has landed. I repeat, the target has land in Tokyo Bay. Artillery barrages, guns emplacement and electrical fences are ineffective, requesting rapid mobilization of the JSDF armored unit, I repeat…"

"None of this makes any sense," Eleanor plopped back against the canvas wall, her face scrunched up in frustration as the truck trudges down the road.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

"From the looks of things we're in post-war Japan, but I just heard that 'a target' had landed in Tokyo Bay. I don't remember anyone invading Japan after the World War."

"Maybe we're in an alternate universe where Red China is invading Japan?"

"That still doesn't explain this thumping on the ground though, it's too well timed to be an earthquake or artillery fire."

"Guess we'll have to wait until we can find someone who can tell us what's going on," Elizabeth's gaze wandered the truck before settling on a youth in a black uniform.

"Hello," she began politely and pointed her finger at him, "may I borrow this?"

The boy stared at her, uncomprehending of what she'd just said. Then he began to fidget where he sat on the truck's floor, casting pleading eyes to his countrymen who answered his called for aide by turning the other way.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Elizabeth tried to calm the startled youth. "I just want that."

"Na-Nani?" He stammered. "Nandeshou?"

"The. News. Paper." Elizabeth made a motion with her hands, palms closing and opening like a book, getting a tad impatient with the language barrier. "I. Want. To. See. The. News. Paper."

"Oh!" The boy's face brightened in realization as he held out the newspaper to her. "Shinbun."

"Yes, yes, shinbun," Elizabeth took the newspaper and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"I think you say arigato when you want to thank someone in Japanese," Eleanor added.

"Oh, umm…arigato?"

The youth smiled at that and bobbed his head enthusiastically before turning away with a silly grin on his face.

"You'll be speaking the language in no time," Eleanor teased.

"I am a fast learner," Elizabeth smirked and held the newspaper up to her face.

"You read Japanese?" Eleanor's brow irked upward.

"No, but what I'm looking for is universal…ah! Here it is!" Elizabeth pointed at the numbers below a large headline. The digits read: 4/11/1954.

"1954," Eleanor said. "Nine years after the war ended."

"Come to think of it, being able to read Japanese would be nice. Judging by the exclamation marks, something big is happening."

"What are those?" Eleanor stabbed her finger at a black and white picture under the date. "Is that…coral?"

"I think it is. Strange, I think it's glowing too, but the picture is too smudgy to be sure."

Eleanor was about to comment on the peculiarity of a glowing ridge of coral big enough to surface above the sea when the truck screeched to a stop, almost throwing them off their seats. It was only when she looked outside that Eleanor realized that they were surrounded by a surging mass of humanity, meandering around and brushing against the truck like stormy waves battering a ship.

"Why did we stop?" Elizabeth straightened herself and began edging toward the back of the truck.

"Hang on, I'll check," Eleanor grabbed the metal beam holding up the canvas roof and leaned herself over the side.

What she saw were people in countless number churning through every inch of the street, shouting and crying as they rushed onward with single-minded desperation. Judging by how clogged the traffic was, Eleanor doubted the convoy would be moving anytime soon. Then she saw a man, a solider, fording his way against the tide of civilians toward their truck, shouting and pointing in her direction.

Eleanor swung back on to her seat just as the man appeared behind their truck. He screamed something in Japanese, arms waving with passionate urgency. Before she could inquire him to his meaning, the man was already pushing his way through the throng toward the truck behind them.

"I think he want us off the truck," Elizabeth said as the other occupants began shuffling out of their seats and quickly gathered up their belongings.

"Stay close," Eleanor leapt down and pressed herself flat against the tailgate, doing her best to stay out of the stampeding crowd as Elizabeth landed softly beside her.

"Whatever you do, don't let go," Eleanor took Elizabeth's hand.

"Okay," the brunette gave a nod and then, after a deep breath, both plunged into the tide that quickly swept them up into an unstoppable current of surging bodies.

Despite being pushed forward ceaselessly, with the occasional bumping and shouldering, Eleanor found that the crowd was astonishingly orderly, a strange sense of control within the growing chaos. Pulling Elizabeth closer until they were shoulder to shoulder, Eleanor could do nothing but let the flow carried them onward.

It was after a few minutes of relentless running when the fleeing mass slowly came to a stop, giving Eleanor the opportunity to catch her breath. ADAM be damned, the nonstop running through Mercy Fall, Mars and that museum was quickly taking its toll on her, what little energy that had kept her going was near empty. Beside her, Elizabeth gave one haggard breath after another, looking about ready to collapse at any moment.

"Hey, hang in there," Eleanor gave her a gentle shake when a strange rumble rent the air.

The deep grating sound was unlike anything Eleanor had ever heard, but she had no doubt that it was made by some kind of animal, a very big animal. The rolling, thunder like roar reminded her of a whale call, but more jagged and broken in resonance.

The powerful bellow came to an end after a few seconds, followed by the resuming, strangely accurate, quaking that jolted the entranced crowd from their silent stupor, screams and shouts returning in deafening volume as the tide began bulling forward again.

Standing a couple of inches taller than everyone, Eleanor was able to see what was causing the hold up. A line of soldiers and policemen had form a human barricade across the wide four lane road, holding back the mass of people with admirable uniformity. Behind them column of tanks sped down the empty highway, while above jets flew at low altitude, the air shattered by the sound of screaming war machine, all heading toward the indomitable noise.

After a few minutes, with the people around her beginning to show the first real sign of agitation, the last tank thundered down the road and the crowd began surging forward again like a torrent rushing through a ruptured dam, policemen and soldiers dashing for the sidewalk lest they be crush by the stampede.

"Let's go," Eleanor tightened her grasp on Elizabeth's hand and took a step forward. But the brunette didn't move, her feet planted firmly on the ground despite Eleanor impatient yanking.

"Come on Elizabeth," Eleanor tugged harder.

"Eleanor…" Elizabeth voice could barely be heard over the din.

"What is the matter with…!" Eleanor spun around and was struck silent by Elizabeth rigid form, her mouth trembling as a figure came to stand beside her, a grim woman that stood out amongst the Japanese population as much as they do.

Daisy Fitzroy.

"Don't you even dare, Lamb," the Vox leader hissed when she saw Eleanor hunching forward for a lunge, the barrel of her hand cannon glinted silver as she slid it across Elizabeth hip, the brunette whimpered at the steely cold touch.

Gritting her teeth, Eleanor forced herself into a more upright posture, her glare never leaving Daisy's grinning face.

"Good girl," Daisy began pushing Elizabeth forward, one careful step after another as Eleanor waited patiently for one of the fleeing people to inevitably crashed into the Vox, she should be quick enough to snatch Elizabeth and flee into the crowd then.

But instead the people of Japan, in pristine uniformity, gave the three a wide berth, passing them like stream flowing around a rock. Eleanor had to hold back a curse, can't these bloody people be more raucous like everybody else?

"Let's get out of the crowd, shall we?" Daisy nudged her head toward an alley. "Over there, move it."

When Eleanor remained still, Daisy pulled down the hammer of her gun, Elizabeth gave a sharp gasp, sobbing fear raked her face.

"Don't test me!"

"Okay! Okay!" Eleanor nodded quickly and walked toward the opening between the buildings, Daisy quickly moving up to her side, a stiff Elizabeth wrapped tight in the Vox's arm.

"Try anything and it's a bullet in her spine," Daisy warning was a hot rasp in her ear.

"Daisy…please," Elizabeth said, her voice cracking.

"Shut up!" Daisy snapped and herd them onward, shouldering against the crowd, ignoring the less than polite sounding words and strange looks as the trio emerged from the bustling mass and strode quickly into an empty alley. They traversed the labyrinth like corridor, the street lamps here teetered on the edge of life, some already snuffed out by the tremor, the din of the fleeing mob becoming more distant.

"Over there," Daisy nodded toward a two-story house on the right, the wooden gate between the tall stone walls left hanging ajar in haste. Without protest, Eleanor stepped on to the gravel walkway and stopped before a large sliding door.

"Inside," Daisy gave her curt command.

Eleanor reached for the circular handle and pulled, but the entrance refused to budge. Strange, the people living here left the front gate open yet fastened their door tight, interesting delegation of priority.

"It's locked," Eleanor said and gave the door another yank, the result was the same.

"Put your back into it then," Daisy raised her voice.

"What do you want me to do? Knock the bloody door down?"

"Maybe you need a little more persuasion?"

Daisy swiftly shifted her grip on the pistol, flicking it into the air and grabbing the barrel while at the same time spinning Elizabeth around to face her. Before Eleanor could react, Daisy swung the hard metal grip into Elizabeth stomach, the force launching the brunette into the air with a tortured choke and sending her face first onto the stony path, her body curling into a ball as she coughed painfully for air.

"You bitch!" Eleanor shrieked as Daisy wrenched Elizabeth up by the hair, the gun now pressed firmly on her right temple.

"Lady Columbia said to bring the both of you back alive, but I think she wouldn't mind if the merchandise got a little damage along the way," the barrel slid down to rest on Elizabeth's ear, Daisy pulling back the hammer with a sadistic grin. "You don't need this to hear anyway."

"No! Stop!" Eleanor almost went down on her knees as she pleaded with the Vox. "Don't hurt her, please! I'll do anything you want, just don't hurt her!"

"Quite a friend you got there Elizabeth, and here I thought you two were no longer on speaking terms," Daisy sneered and hefted an almost limp Elizabeth back on her feet, the brunette gave a weak grunt in protest as the Vox gave Eleanor a mocking smile. "I like the way you begged girl, but I still want that door open. I believe you're properly motivated now? So. Get to it."

Her hands trembling with barely suppressed rage, Eleanor glared at the grinning woman and channeled all her anger toward the unfortunate door. With a roar, she launched her foot at the entrance, the kick sending the frame of wood and paper flying back into the house in shattered pieces.

"Well done Eleanor, I knew you can do it, your mother spoke so highly of you after all," Daisy gave her condescending praise. "Now in you go."

Without a word, Eleanor strode into the dark corridor, feeling a little smile creeping up her lips. Once all three of them were within the lightless confine, she could easily tackle Daisy and get Elizabeth out of here. But as she strode deeper into the shadow, almost falling flat on her face when her foot struck a rise in the floor, Eleanor became aware that nobody was following her. Turning around, she saw Daisy and Elizabeth standing just inside the empty door frame, well within the light, not taking a single step into the house.

"Do you think I'm that stupid?!" Daisy snapped at her. "Turn the lights on!"

Growling her frustration, Eleanor lit the Incinerate plasmid on her hand and waved it around the room until she found a plastic switch near the bend in the corridor, the pristine white synthesized material was an odd contrast to a house built almost entirely out of wood. Powering down her plasmid Eleanor flicked the switch, white flooded the hall to reveal a comfy, yet spartan, interior.

"That's better," Daisy dragged Elizabeth inside. "The living room, there."

Eleanor walked into the dining area and pulled a white cord hanging from a ceiling light about three feet above her. With the room illuminate in a bland, almost sterilized white, Eleanor could make out a western style cooking utensil in one corner of the matted room, tatami she think it was called, with a very low round table with six cushions circling it as the centerpiece.

"What are you going to do?" Eleanor spun to face Daisy.

"I just need to wait," Daisy shrugged. "It'll be sometime before lady Columbia come looking for me, I just needed somewhere to keep you two penned up."

"How?" Elizabeth now asked, her voice tinged with pain. "How did you find us?"

"The good lady is more capable with the Tear than you'll ever be," Daisy answered. "She can perceive multiple realities at once and can see if any anomaly reared its head within those worlds. You left a faint trail all over the place, there were ten possible paths you could've have taken. Guess I was lucky when I came here."

"This place isn't safe Daisy," Eleanor tried to reason with the woman. "Didn't you see all those people running away? Can't you feel that strange earthquake?" It was getting stronger now she noticed. "Columbia wants us alive doesn't she? She wouldn't be happy if you got us killed in the middle of…whatever it is that's happening."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Daisy tightened her grip on Elizabeth. "Running all over the place, waiting for me to mess up before giving me the slip?" Her eyes wandered downward then, the hand cannon following until the barrel was pointed at Elizabeth's knee. "But if you feel that strongly about it, I guess I could make some adjustment before we head out."

"Okay! Fine! We're staying!" Eleanor spluttered and held out her hands toward the Vox. "Just put the gun away, please."

"On your knees," Daisy said and pulled down the hammer when Eleanor didn't respond in a more timely manner.

"Okay! Okay!" Eleanor quickly went down to both knees.

"Beg."

"Wha-What?"

"Beg girl, beg me not to put a bullet in your friend," Daisy smiled darkly. "Go on, show me how much she means to you. And it better be good, because if it isn't…well, let's just say I can keep her alive even after I emptied the chamber."

Eleanor eyes darted frantically between Daisy and Elizabeth, lost and confused on how to appease the Vox leader, while at the same time unable to conjure a reason as to why the woman was doing this to them.

"Eleanor, don't," Elizabeth shook her head, to which Eleanor only gave comforting smile. She felt no indignation then, no shame, the only thing important to her now was making sure Elizabeth remained safe. For that, she was ready to suffer through any humiliation Daisy had planned for her.

"Please," Eleanor began, her head lowered in submission, words parting awkwardly. "Please, don't hurt her, I beg of you. She my dearest friend…please show her mercy."

Whatever satisfaction Daisy may have gotten from seeing her grovel quickly dispersed, and in its place was a disgusted scowl as the hand cannon came to rest on Elizabeth thigh.

"Not good enough."

"No! Please!" Eleanor cried before Daisy can pull the trigger. "I'll do anything, say anything, please! I'll beg, I'll plea, I-I'll even kiss your feet and let you shoot me instead, just don't hurt her! Just tell me what you want!"

Daisy low chuckle oozed absolute satisfaction, "now that's a lot better, good to see you finally starting to learn your place. Your mother had always said you were stubborn, but I guess she just never found the right way to break you."

Eleanor gritted her teeth and fought back hot tears of frustration, her lips twitching for a sharp retort and her hands shook with a mixture of plasmid and adrenaline, twitching, begging for a violent release on the snickering Daisy.

"Well, don't stop now!" The Vox bellowed. "Tell me more, how low will you stoop to see her safe and sound? What are you willing to put your mind and body through, how long until you regret your own loyalty? In fact, I think we can – Argh!"

Too caught up in her own indulgence, Daisy had, very minutely, eased her hold on Elizabeth. Taking the opportunity, the brunette grabbed the Vox's shooting arm and bit down hard, dark rivulet bursting from punctured flesh as her jaw clamped shut with a snarl. Shrieking, Daisy's free hand lashed out and grabbed a fistful of Elizabeth's hair, throwing her easily across the room.

"You fucking bitch!" Daisy screamed and was taking aim at the downed Elizabeth when Eleanor bolted off her feet and tackled the Vox, bulling her through another sliding door, both of them colliding hard against the wooden floor, the hand cannon sliding down the hall and out of their reach.

Eleanor and Daisy rolled across the hall, fists rising and falling as they attempt to beat each other into submission, it wasn't long before specks of blood began streaking after every plummeting stroke. After a minute of hectic scuffle, Eleanor found herself flat on her back with Daisy straddling over her, hail of fists landing on her face with brutal precision. Although she was physically stronger than the Vox, Eleanor was not a trained fighter, which was why after managing to block three of Daisy strike her guard finally crumbled. Her head snapping left and right to the Vox vicious assault, Eleanor feeble attempt to fight back grew weaker, numbing pain darkening her vision.

Stuttering on the edge of consciousness, sensing nothing but the stinging tear blurring her vision and the wet rusty taste in her mouth, Eleanor could only watched in resignation as Daisy raised a fist for the knock out blow. But before the punch can be thrown, Daisy let out a surprise yelp when Elizabeth suddenly reappeared and gave the Vox's messy mat of hair a powerful wrench, pulling the woman off Eleanor. Coughing and spitting thick phlegm of blood, Eleanor braced her elbows on the floor and groggily rose to a sitting position, white hot pain flared across her face and body as she leaned against the wall and sluggishly pushed herself upward.

Gazing into the living room, she could see Elizabeth latching herself onto Daisy's long, black braid, pulling and tugging as if they were two girls fighting in a school yard during recess, with the brunette leaping away from the Vox clawing hands as she spun them both in a twirling, dance like circle. The scene was rather comical until Daisy elbow swung back and struck Elizabeth in the face, her brow splitting open in a brilliant splatter of crimson.

Elizabeth staggered and was about to fall when Daisy grabbed the collar of her shirt and slapped her hard across the cheek, the fleshy smack sounded worse than a punch, sending the brunette plopping gracelessly onto the low table. Before Elizabeth could gather her wits, Daisy grabbed her head and slammed it on the tabletop, once, twice and thrice until blood and crack marred the once smooth surface and the brunette ceased her struggle.

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor summoned what remained of her strength and rammed her shoulder into Daisy's back, sending them both barreling into the kitchen counter, plates and silverwares rained down on them. Eleanor was finding her bearing when a sharp kick send her flying back onto the tatami mat, a blistering Daisy stalking toward her with an unsheathed bowie knife in hand. Backpedaling away from the looming Vox, Eleanor hand darted to her belt and fumbled for the dagger Tangmo had gave her, bloody hand slipping until her fingers found a firm purchase on the iron grip and pulled it free. Daisy gave a start when she saw the gleaming blade, but was deterred for about a second before continuing her approach.

Smirking, Daisy lunged forward, aiming for Eleanor abdomen. Eleanor tried to parry the attack, the blades meeting in a brilliant spark, but the momentum and force of the bowie knife wrenched the dagger free from her grip as Daisy tackled her to the ground and straddled her again, this time with the knife pointed downward.

"You know…" Daisy hissed, unmoving despite Eleanor furious attempt to squirm away. "They say a Big Sister can recover from any wound, I think I want to find out if that's true or not."

Daisy arched back her arm and stabbed downward, Eleanor gave a frightened screech as her hands shot up and intercepted the attack, the knife now hovering a few inches above her face.

"Let's see if your eye grows back!" Daisy spat as she grabbed the knife with both hands and eased her weight downward.

"No! No!" Eleanor strained and fought with animalistic desperation, hands clenched tight on the Bowie leather grip but Daisy was stronger, her weak attempt to push back the gleaming steel was quickly overpowered by the Vox, the leering tip remained unwavering in its descending trajectory. Closer and closer it came down until all Eleanor could see was the blade cold merciless silver, inches away from plunging into its target.

But when Eleanor was sure the pointed tip was about to pierce the wet membrane of her eye, Elizabeth staggered into view, a large, heavy looking bottle filled with clear sloshing liquid held above her head. With a roar, she brought it down on Daisy head with all her strength. The Vox gave a straggled grunt as she fall face first on to the tatami mat beside Eleanor, the bowie knife clattering out of her grasp, blood seeping through thick black hair.

"Are you okay?" Elizabeth reached down and slowly pulled her up, both their movements fragile and strained.

"I'll live," Eleanor gave a weak nod and winced when she saw the deep, still bleeding gash above Elizabeth brow, half her face drenched in red. "Oh my God…I'll get something to patch you up."

"You're not looking too good yourself," Elizabeth said dryly and raised a hand to graze Eleanor's face.

"Ow!" Eleanor jerked back from the touch, Elizabeth tender fingers sending fire across her visage. "How bad is it?"

"Your left eye and cheeks are quite swollen, and your bottom lip is split," Elizabeth gave her concern prognosis. "What about me?"

"You have a nasty gash near your right brow and your forehead is lumpy," Eleanor limped over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a plain white cloth and ripped a length of strip off before, as gently as she could, wrapped it around Elizabeth head. "And you're swaying."

"I'm just a little disoriented, ah!" Elizabeth squeaked when Eleanor tightened the bind. "That table must've been made of granite or something."

"That's the best I can do for now," Eleanor gave the cloth one more tug and took a step back to inspect her handiwork. Nowhere near the same quality of ministration Elizabeth did for her back in Mars city, but it'll have to do until they could get help. That shouldn't be hard, nobody will turn away two injured women in need.

Eleanor was about to leave the dining room when she spotted Tangmo's lion dagger, the unblemished blade shining bright in the neon light. She picked it, frowning at how badly she had used the weapon to defend herself, then looked over at Daisy's unmoving form. Closing her fingers around the dagger's naked grip, a dark thought came over Eleanor and before she even realized it, she was standing over the Vox vulnerable form, the dagger held inverted in her fist, the blade pointed downward.

"Eleanor, don't," it was when Elizabeth's soft hand came to rest on her shaking white knuckles that the murderous urge to skewer Daisy began to fade, reason and empathy fighting back the red tide that had washed over her conscience.

"She tried to kill us," still, Eleanor wasn't about to disregard the idea completely. "What if she…"

"I don't think she'll be getting up anytime soon," Elizabeth gently, but firmly, eased her knife hand down. "In fact, I'm not even sure she could get up at all. I hit her pretty hard."

"You're right," Eleanor gave a heavy sigh and slid the dagger back into her belt. "Oh God…what was I thinking?"

"It's okay Eleanor," Elizabeth took her arms and slowly make their way toward the entrance, both moving at an injured, awkward gait, both leaning on each other for support. "Let's get out of here, that earthquake seems to be getting nearer and stronger."

It wasn't until they were outside that Eleanor finally noticed that the tremor was indeed becoming more powerful, every pounding quake sending tiles sliding off roofs and furniture tumbling over, sturdy looking houses wavered like trees caught in a gale, frames cracking and bending, windows shattering into sparkling shards that fell like snow. It was as if the world itself was coming to an end around them.

"Come on!" Eleanor threw an arm around Elizabeth shoulder and quickened her steps, made more difficult by the constant reverberation that threw off their balance.

"Which way?" Elizabeth asked when they strode into an empty alley.

"I don't know," Eleanor shook her head before quickly deciding on the direction that she was sure the quaking wasn't emanating from. "This way."

It wasn't long after the pair ventured into the maze like alleyway of Tokyo that Eleanor quickly realized that they were lost. With all the street lambs darkened, the only source of illumination for Eleanor was the dark red bloom that marred the night sky, a veil of deep crimson that told her which part of the city was ablaze. It was the only discernable reference Eleanor had, and by using it she knew which way not to go.

"Goddamn it!" Eleanor cursed after they took a corner and was greeted with a dead end. "We've to take another turn, come on…"

Her voice trailed off when a rumbling rush, this one continuous and unchanging unlike the tremor, thundered around them like a cresting wave moment from colliding with the shore. The world exploded around them, powerful gust strewed with plasters, glasses and woods swept over the pair, throwing them hard to ground as billowing plume enveloped them.

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor coughed and crawled over to the fallen brunette. "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah…" Elizabeth rose unsteadily onto her knees, new streak of blood ran down the side of her face. "What the hell happened?"

"Must've been a…" Eleanor was about to say bomb when she felt a presence standing above her, impossibly large and most definitely alive. Something big struck the ground about two hundred yards away from them, so powerful was the pounding concussion that it threw her and Elizabeth flat on their backs again and scattered away the cloud of debris.

The first thing she saw was the slow moving, snake like appendage hovering lethargically above them, curling and bending, suspended for a moment in the air before swinging abruptly away and landing on another part of the alley, explosion of dust following its destructive wake. The massive thing, Eleanor realized now that it was a tail, was connected to an even larger body. As her eyes traveled upward, Eleanor felt her breath turning to ice as she beheld a monster, a hulking abominable thing of midnight that stood tall and proud like a statue. It shares certain similarity to the dinosaur Elizabeth had summoned back in Mercy Fall, but on a much larger, unimaginable scale, dwarfing the prehistoric reptiles by a few hundred meters at least.

From the flame that surrounded the creature, Eleanor could see that its skin was a craggy black stony ridges like that of a shattered cliff face running up the length of its massive thigh, body and two arms that were bended upward and looked quite small compare to everything else. It moved with a lumbering slowness, not surprising given its colossal size, but with the frightening majesty of a great mountain. A glaring contrast to its ebon body was the bone white dorsal fins, the corals she saw on the newspaper, the protrusion shimmering with invisible heat. Rows of fangs lined its mouth, and its eyes were soulless white.

"Run," Eleanor voice began as a croak before rising in octave as she threw Elizabeth's arm over her shoulder. "Run!"

As if to urge them on faster, the beast raised its head up to the dark sky, opened its maw and shattered the night with its thunderous roar, a jagged cacophony of primal grandeur that eclipsed the world with its powerful resonance. Ears ringing and body shaking from the almost tangible sound, Eleanor and Elizabeth staggered toward the now destroyed dead end, the main road opening up before them.

Stumbling over piles of bricks and woods, Eleanor was met with a column of tanks and infantrymen rushing down the street, trucks carrying gigantic spotlight aimed their bright illumination at the beast, the glaring light painting a more horrific dimension on the monster as it began moving away.

One of the solider spotted them and quickly waved the pair over as the tanks came to a stop and raised their guns at the beast, while the soldiers began setting up heavy machine guns and field artilleries.

"Which way to the shelter?" Eleanor question was drowned out by the man barking, his hands urging them frantically to the rear.

"This way," Elizabeth pointed toward the direction the solider was gesturing. "I can feel a Tear that way, let's go."

"Arigato!" Eleanor bobbed her head down in a hasty bow and quickly made her way down the lines of rushing men carrying guns, ammunitions and shells. They were nearing the end of the formation when the barrage began, the pounding of heavy guns and rattling of machineguns rose to a deafening crescendo as the army gave battle to the beast, unleashing their weaponries with unrestrained savagery, peppering the massive hides in fiery sparks of cascading explosion.

It wasn't until they had distanced themselves far enough from the fighting and hurrying around a corner that Eleanor and Elizabeth turned around to watch the unfolding engagement, not the smartest thing to do, she admitted, but the spectacle wasn't something they could easily passed up, and judging from the army onslaught, it couldn't last much longer. There's no way that an animal, regardless of size, can withstand that much armament right?

But as her eyes adjusted to the flash of discharging guns, Eleanor felt her heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. The beast was unperturbed by the assault, bullets and shells exploding harmlessly off its flank, doing no discernable damage to the monstrous monolith, impervious against mankind's hellish weaponries. Yet the Japanese fought on, refusing to yield as they marched toward the monster, the salvo unceasing.

That was when the beast noticed their pestering. Snarling, it turns toward the approaching tanks and soldiers, looking almost disgusted by the army paltry attempt and opened its mouth. Eleanor braced for another roar but none came. Instead she saw, with such great disbelief that she had to shake her head a couple of times, blue light glowing within its cavernous maw of serrated teeth.

"Eleanor, look!" Elizabeth pointed at the monster's dorsal fins which were glowing the same luminescent shade of bluish white, bathing the world in its unnatural radiance. The bursting iridescent power seems to grow and coalesce within the gaping mouth when suddenly the pent up energy was unleashed on the soldiers in a starling blue beam of fire.

"Look out!" Eleanor tackled Elizabeth to ground and laid atop the brunette, teeth gritted and eyes scrunched shut as the last reverberating inferno ended as abruptly as it has began. Shaking, they both slowly got back on their feet and, with great trepidation, poked their head back into the street. The beast was leisurely striding away, the ground trembling to its heavy footfall, the low rumbling in its throat sounded almost satisfied. Nothing but flaming, melted war machines remained where the column of soldiers had been, reduced to mounds of burnt, misshapen frames of iron still smoldering from the beast fiery breathe. Of the soliders nothing could be found, as if the creature's fire had vaporized them completely from existence.

"We better keep moving," Elizabeth gave her a nudge, to which she responded with a nod and quickly tore her eyes away from the blackened carnage, the brunette taking the lead.

"Demons from hell, blood sucking squid and a fire breathing dinosaur," Eleanor grumbled as she followed Elizabeth up a wide stairway. "When are we going to get a break?"

"Hey, you said it yourself," Elizabeth turned with a smirk, even with a bloody face she still look presentable. "We're in a streak of bad luck."

"Oh, ha, ha," Eleanor deadpanned a laugh. "At least Daisy not after us anymore, hopefully the dinosaur will get hungry and find her."

"That would be serendipitous," Elizabeth managed a laugh, but she and Eleanor quickly spun back the way they came, breathing a sigh of relief when nothing stalked after them. "Still, I wouldn't mind terribly if the Tear takes us somewhere nice for a change. Like the Shire or Hobbiton."

Eleanor gave her a leveled, but somewhat confounded look, "Shire and Hobbiton?"

"Well um…you see," Elizabeth began coyly as they strode under a wide, red arch fashioned from wood, a torii gate if Eleanor remembered the name correctly, and on to a smooth, even flagstone path that led to a squat but wide building. From the implanted memory, Eleanor was able to identify it as a Shinto temple. Like elsewhere, it was deserted.

"Do you remember that book I took from the library?" Elizabeth slowed her steps, the serene nocturnal landscape putting their mind at ease somewhat. "The magical looking one?"

"The Ring Lord thing?" Eleanor eyes narrowed wickedly when Elizabeth began bouncing shyly on the tip of her toes. "You actually read that stuff?!"

"Not the entire thing!" Elizabeth blurted. "Just the first few chapters, that's all."

"So, did you like it? Did it have dainty princesses, heroic knights, prancing unicorns and nasty trolls?"

"Actually, it's about a bunch of tiny people called Hobbits preparing for a birthday party, while a wizard rode into town with fireworks. The book took its time describing everything, but the way the Shire was written…let's just say it's a place I would love to visit, or go for a quiet vacation."

"That sounds nice," Eleanor shrugged. "So which way?"

"Over here," Elizabeth pointed to another set of stone stairs that led them to a rise that overlooked the entire temple complex. It took about a minute for them to reach the summit, and once they stood upon the flat top Eleanor was left breathless by the sight before her. Standing beside the shimmering Tear was a towering cherry blossom tree, the white pink bloom glittering like stars, lit ablaze by the quantum light, the petals dancing softly to the gentle breeze while some drifted over them like fragrant snow, the size of the trunk and width of the entwining braches bespoke of its ancient age. And spread out below the rise was Tokyo itself, but instead of the sprawling metropolis all she saw was fire, burning from horizon to horizon, a false dawn painting the sky in sickly scarlet. Sirens and faded howling of people still trapped in the city drifted up to them, a haunting contrast to the serenity of the temple.

And towering above the apocalyptic panorama was the monster, trampling across the city with easy carelessness, its massive body crushing and destroying all in its path; buildings crumbled and collapsed like they were made of paper. The scattered armed forces continued their fight, converging on the beast from all side, discharging their weapons in a continuous volley despite the apparent ineffectiveness of the strategy. Above them fighter jets swooped down for a strafing run, only accomplishing in further agitating the monster, who responded to the nuisance by discharging more of its blue fire at the attackers.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Elizabeth said softly behind her.

"Yeah, let's get out of here," Eleanor spun and found the brunette down on both hands and knees, her breath coming in sharp gasps as her body began to spasm, back arching upward with every shuddering inhale.

"Elizabeth?!" Eleanor rushed to Elizabeth side when she began retching violently, acidic bile pouring from her mouth, not surprising considering that they haven't had a scrap of food since fleeing Mercy Fall. Stroking her back slowly, Eleanor waited until the vomiting passed before easing Elizabeth down on the cherry blossom's trunk.

"Oh God…" Eleanor knew that Elizabeth had suffered a concussion, the severity unknown, but judging from how the brunette swayed and shivered, it's not something benign, and it's not something she was equipped to deal with either.

"I'll be okay," Elizabeth tried to rise but the task proved taxing, her arms and legs wobbled weakly as she managed to lean on the tree, back hunched in an ailing posture.

Eleanor gave the Tear a quick glance and said. "We have to go back and find a doctor. You can go anywhere like this."

"No," Elizabeth shook her head slowly. "That thing is down there and so is Daisy, we can't stay."

"But you can barely stand and we don't know what's on the other side!"

"I'll take my chances, come on."

Eleanor wanted to scream, to screech, to berate Elizabeth for her stubbornness and complete disregard to her own injuries. But instead of an expletive outburst, Eleanor gave the ground a hard stomp and an exasperate groan as she, very carefully, placed Elizabeth arm over her shoulder, straightened her up, and guided the brunette toward the white Tear, no sickly darkness leaking through this time.

"Thank you," Elizabeth managed a smile.

"It's not like you were going to take no for an answer anyway," Eleanor remark was met with a sharp jab in her side, "let's just hope there's a hospital on the other side."

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded weakly as they strode through the bright arch and were engulfed by such powerful light that the world became nothing but glaring, formless white, the Tear closing with a quiet thump behind them. Blinking her vision back into focus, Eleanor now realized that they were standing in the sun, the cloudless sky above a perfect cerulean. They were standing beside a simple dirt road that cut through an open meadow of emerald green, a picturesque landscape of unspoiled nature that was a welcoming change to the dark, ruined landscape of Tokyo. Forest lined the horizon as far as she could see and rising tall and proud above them were snowcapped mountain range, its sharpened peak rising to graze the heaven. The lack of observable human habitation, however, was rather alarming.

"Well," Eleanor spoke after a moment, adjusting Elizabeth weight across her shoulder. "At least this look a lot nicer."


	20. An Unexpected Guest

**A calm and slow chapter, I apologize for the lack of death and destruction.**

* * *

It was beautiful, the emerald green field rolling softly to the easy breeze like a gentle wave, the towering pines that lined the edge of the meadow like silent sentinels, the majestic mountain range reaching its snowy claws up to the cloudless sky of brightest blue. It was a picture-perfect scene no painter or photographer can hope to replicate, and here was Elizabeth unable to indulge in nature most magnificent grandeur. The more she remained still the more unfocused her eyes became, and any attempt to move sends rush of nausea up her throat.

"Easy, easy," Eleanor slowly lowered her to the ground. "How are you feeling?"

"Could be worse," Elizabeth summoned a smiled. Even that was becoming difficult as pain shot across her skull, "I'm actually quite…"

"Don't you dare say peachy," Eleanor voice was hard as she checked the bandage around her head, grimacing all the while.

"That bad, huh?" Elizabeth asked.

"We need to get you to a hospital," Eleanor got up and glanced around. "The track looks constantly use, so I guess we just have to wait for a passing car."

"Okay…" Elizabeth was quickly finding it hard to focus, her empty stomach churning like a troubled sea. Before she could even stop herself, bile rushes up her throat and burst from her mouth, body doubling over as she expelled the acidic fluid.

"Oh God," Eleanor stroked Elizabeth's back as the last of the retching passed, her teary eyes meeting the girl's stricken face.

"I'll be fine," Elizabeth tried to wave her off.

"Stop saying that!" Eleanor snapped as she began looking around with more urgency. "Jesus Christ, what are we going to do?!"

"Eleanor, calm down."

"We don't know when or where we are," Eleanor bolted to her feet, pacing and mumbling with unhidden apprehension. "I can't leave you alone and I can't wander out to find help either because I have no bloody idea which way is north and south."

"Eleanor, I said I'm…"

"No, you're not!" Eleanor spun sharply on Elizabeth, but despite the severity of her tone the younger girl was almost weeping with worry. "You have a concussion, your skull might be crack and I don't know if there's any internal bleeding. We need a hospital before things get any worse."

"Then we better get moving," Elizabeth got back on her feet, the effort leaving her sweating and shaking.

"You can barely stand," Eleanor rushed over to support her.

"We don't have a choice," Elizabeth said exasperatedly, fighting to keep her voice and body from trembling.

Eleanor was about to retort when her head snapped suddenly to the left, gasping sharply, a smile curving up her face. But not a second later the elation deflated and her posture went rigid, a worried frown now replacing the hopeful grin from before.

"What is it?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes but the world refused to take the correct shape.

"Someone's coming," Eleanor hissed and placed herself in front of Elizabeth. "But I don't know if he's going to be much help."

It took a moment for Elizabeth to hear the clopping of horse hooves, the squeaking of wheels and the low melodious hum as a wooden cart came to a stop before them, pulled by a majestic white horse that looked out of place with such a lowly job. And reining in the steed was a wizened old man draped in white.

"Good heavens!" He exclaimed as he leaned down from his seat to get a better look. "What happened to you young…"

His words trailed off as he leapt down from the cart, more agile than his aging frame would suggest, his cloak of purest white making a dramatic flourish.

"Stay back!" Eleanor warned, to which the old man simply reached his hand over and ran his thumb and forefinger over her ear, pinching the rounded top before pulling away.

"You're human…" he regarded them with a hint of surprise. "Two young human maidens, how peculiar."

"Two very injured human maidens," Eleanor said. "Can you take us to a hospital? My friend needs help."

"I'm afraid that the way may be too perilous, given your current condition," the man turned around and retrieved something from behind his seat. "But if it is healing that you seek…"

"What are you doing?!" Eleanor demanded when Elizabeth saw the man lowered an intricately carved wooden staff toward her, the tip coming to rest on her forehead. There was a sudden jolt, like getting buffeted by a rouge gust of wind, sending Elizabeth staggering backward a couple of steps. Bracing for the rush of crippling nausea, Elizabeth eyes widened when the accumulated pain suddenly lessened, the sickness fading until nothing but clarity remained.

Blinking rapidly, unbelieving of what had just transpired, Elizabeth hands shot up and remove the bandage around her head, wincing when her fingers brushed against the tender, but healed, brow.

"Best not to touch that my dear," the old man said, and now that Elizabeth vision wasn't a blurry mess, she saw that despite the wrinkles that adorned his aging, bearded face, there was a healthy youthfulness in his bright, welcoming smile. "Your wound was rather severe, it would take some time to heal completely. Now, for you next."

Elizabeth could only gasp when she saw Eleanor. Daisy's fists had turned her face into a mass of bleeding purple bruises, right eye swollen shut and lips puffy and lacerated from the beating.

"Oh Eleanor…" Elizabeth grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly.

"I'm alright Elizabeth, don't worry," Eleanor gave a weak grin.

"Yes, you will be alright indeed," the old man touched the tip of his staff on Eleanor's head, she gave a little moan when bright, translucent white enveloped her body for a split second. When the illumination passed, Elizabeth could only stare, mouth agape as the bulging pulp on Eleanor's face began healing until her visage regain its handsome dimension. After just a few seconds, only a few blotches of fading bruises remained.

"H-How?" Eleanor stammered as she quickly touched her face. "I mean, thank you, but…what did you do exactly? Cellular telekinetic healing maybe?"

"Is that even a thing?" Elizabeth brow rose questioningly.

"Theoretically. But how else would you explain this?"

The old man gave a low, amused laugh as he placed the staff back behind his seat and said, "magic."

Elizabeth and Eleanor gave each other a disbelieving look, skeptic and somewhat amused by the old man announcement. Then again, he'd just healed severe blunt trauma by simply touching the end of a staff on their foreheads. And if she was being honest, after running through a demon infested Mars, facing down interdimensional monstrosities, and fleeing a giant fire breathing lizard, was magic really that unbelievable anymore?

Elizabeth quickly gave herself a mental headshake. No! She was a learned woman of science and reason, she'll be damned if she starts believing something as childish and nonsensical as magic.

"Magic?" Elizabeth had to keep a straight face. "As in pulling a rabbit out of your hat? Feint of hands? Make yourself disappear inside a box?"

"Do not take me for some conjuror of cheap tricks young lady!" The man straightened his back, looking mightily offended.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult you," Elizabeth bowed, more to hide her smirk than politeness. "Whatever it was that you did, we greatly appreciate it."

"I should think so!" He gave a grumpy huff, the gesture more endearing than antagonistic. "The power I possess is not an easily disregarded trifle."

"Okay…" Eleanor said. "So umm…do you know which way to the nearest town is? Not that I mind the rustic quality of the place, but we're kind of lost."

"A great city lies that way," he pointed his thumb back the way he'd just come. "But given your rather disheveled state, I doubt the two of you would be able to make the journey."

As if agree with the old man assessment, Eleanor stomach chose that moment to grumble, the humiliating volume amplified by the fields soundless placidity. Turning beet red, Eleanor lowered her gaze and hugged her rumbling belly, doing her best to shrink from the old man smiling regard. Elizabeth would have found Eleanor misgiving hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that her own stomach decided to add its own gurgling protest to the mix. Bashful red flushing her cheeks, Elizabeth quickly assumed a position not that dissimilar to Eleanor own.

"Maybe you could spare us some food?" Elizabeth gave a sheepish grin to which the old man shook his head adamantly.

"I cannot simply ignore those in needs," the man gestured to the back of his cart. "Don't dillydally now, hop on and I'll see to it that you get some food and rest."

"Thank you for your generous offer, kind sir, but I think it would be better if…"

"Elizabeth, can I have a word please?"

Elizabeth paused mid-sentence and turned to regard a rather solemn looking Eleanor.

"Can you give us a minute please?" She gave the old man a polite smile, who responded with a slow nod as he reached into his cloak and withdrew a long, mahogany pipe.

"Take your time," he said and began stuffing what appeared to be tobacco leaf into the flat oval chamber.

"What is it?" Elizabeth turned her back to the old man and lowered her voice.

"I think we should go with him," Eleanor tone was equally hushed.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth shot a glance at the old man who was, quite jovially, puffing smoke through his thick white beard.

"Yeah. Look at him, he's harmless."

"Maybe, but I think there's more to him that meets the eye."

"That's true enough, that staff of his especially."

"Still want to go with him?"

"We don't really have much of a choice now, do we?"

"Well…we can just keep walking."

"I'm tired, and I mean tired to the point where the slug won't be any help, and I can tell you're not looking too good yourself. We'll probably drop dead from exhaustion and hunger in less than an hour on our own. So I say we take his offer, and if he tries anything we can thrash him. I mean look at him, he's old enough to be our grandfather."

Elizabeth choked down a laugh and turned discreetly to see if the old man had heard her. Luckily, he seems wholly occupied with his pipe. Well, they already trusted the masked Verlassen, and he turned out quite contrary to his rather scary appearance, so how bad can this old man be? Although the small voices in her head were whispering for caution, Elizabeth had a good feeling about him, and so far her instinct has been right in regard to first impression.

"Excuse me sir," Elizabeth approached the man as he blew another long stream into the air, the smoke smelling bitter sweet. "We have decided to take up your most generous offer."

"Most excellent my dear, now there should be ample room in the back," he waved his pipe toward the cart before putting it away. "But first, I believe that it is only polite that I know the name of who I am about to travel with."

"My name is Elizabeth DeWitt."

"I'm Eleanor Lamb."

"Hmm…strange names."

"And what would your name be?" Eleanor asked as the man became thoughtful, head tilting in wistful recollection.

"I have carried many names and titles in my time," he said after a long retrospection. "Different lands, different names, dozen if not hundred variations existed from one end of the earth to another. But here, I am called Olorin."

"Mr. Olorin," Elizabeth rolled the name around in her mouth, the words and syllabus unfamiliar on her tongue. And he had the audacity to call their names weird!

"Well, hop on then Elizabeth and Eleanor," Olorin said. "We have a long road ahead, so make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you," Elizabeth gave a petite bow, Eleanor mimicking with considerable grace, before clambering onto the roofless cart, sparse but for a few boxes that stank of Sulphur and sacks that she deduced were food stuff.

Leg stretched out across the wooden floor board, Elizabeth sighed blissfully as she eased her back onto the rail, not caring if it a little hard.

"Yep, this really beats walking," Eleanor cracked a smile, "told you this was a good idea."

"Yes, yes you did," Elizabeth gave her a playful nudge on the shoulder.

"Slowly now Shadowfax," Olorin gave his rein a gentle flick and the majestic white steed clopped into motion, even now Elizabeth thought that using such a beautiful animal to draw a cart looked wrong somehow.

"What's this?" Eleanor reached her hand toward a crate and threw away the dirty canvas cover, revealing long, colorful tubes with pointed papier-mâché tips. "Are these fireworks?"

"I wouldn't touch that, if I were you," Olorin warned crisply, head snapping back to stare dagger at them. "Last time I left my merchandises with a pair of impetuous youth an entire village was sent into an up roar. So keep your mitts away from them!"

"Okay, Jeez! I was only asking!" Eleanor huffed and folded her arms crossly over her chest, pouting hotly.

"You're a firework maker then, Mr. Olorin?" Elizabeth asked.

"Amongst other things," Olorin returned his gaze to the empty road. "But I found that making fireworks brings me the most joy. To see the faces of children and adults gleamed with happiness as my creations bloomed into a thousand dancing stars in the clear night sky, weariness washed away from their visage, the burden of everyday struggle forgotten in that brief moment of joy shared with their loved ones. Yes, that is much better than my other callings."

"I see…" Elizabeth could detect a hint of melancholy creeping into his tone, a gloom of someone who had treaded the long, weary road of life. Curious as she might be of the man sudden shift in disposition, Elizabeth knew better than to pry into things that were better left unspoken.

And even if she was inclined to press the subject, the sudden wave of drowsiness was enough to deter her from further conversation.

Yawning, Elizabeth felt herself swaying to the gentle rhythm of the cart, the smooth rocking easing her slowly, but surely, toward beckoning sleep. She was titling to the right when her head bumped into a mess of black hair. Jolting awake, Elizabeth was about to apologize when she saw that Eleanor was already fast at sleep, her lolling head coming to rest in the nook of Elizabeth's shoulder and neck, eyes shut in peaceful slumber. Not having the heart to wake her, Elizabeth simply smiled and leaned her cheek onto the soft ruffle of Eleanor's hair, sleep coming immediately when her eyelids fluttered closed.

No nightmares, no visions of unreachable places, just serene blissful sleep that wrapped her up like a warm blanket, the darkness friendly and void of fright.

"Wake up," Olorin voice was a far and inconsequential thing, humming softly at the edge of her hearing. She didn't know how long it was since he'd last spoken, but it was far too soon, she couldn't have slept for more than a few minutes.

"We've arrived, wake up," his timbre was more pronounced now, a ringing interruption forcing its way into the peaceful sanctity of her slumber.

"Just five more minutes…"

A wooden bonk answered her request, the sharp pain jolting her awake with a yelp, the sudden movement sending Eleanor tumbling to the wagon floor in a mess of panicky swathing arms and legs.

"Ouch!" Elizabeth rubbed her forehead and glared at the impatient looking Olorin, his fingers drumming a quick rhythm on the white staff.

"What happened?" Eleanor fumbled up right, heads darting between Elizabeth and Olorin.

"He hit me!" Elizabeth pointed an accusing finger at the old man.

"The both of you wouldn't stir so I have to resort to a more acute means of banishing your sleep," Olorin retorted levelly.

"You could have been gentler," Elizabeth made the most offended expression she could muster. "A simple nudge would've been enough."

"Yeah, haven't anyone taught you not to hit women?" Eleanor added with a flare of indignation.

"I was gentle," Olorin said testily, "I tried to shake the both of you awake but your sleep was deeper than Durin himself. Be thankful, young ladies, that I didn't used Shadowfax drinking water. It would help with the grime and smell, that much I'm sure."

Elizabeth would have continued arguing but Olorin was right. The military green t-shirts and baggy trousers they picked up in Mars city were darkened with dried patches of blood and ripped in many places, revealing her skin in some rather inappropriate places. To surmise aptly, they both looked like hell.

"Well, we had quite a few rough days," Eleanor said sharply and climbed down the wagon. "So how long were we out?"

"Out?" Olorin bushy brow rose in confusion, uncomprehending of Eleanor rather basic colloquialism. Wizard or not, the old man was obviously some kind of hermit who haven't been in contact with civilization since the dawn of the century. The thought frightened Elizabeth somewhat.

"I mean, how long were we at sleep?" Eleanor asked again.

"The entire way back to my home," Olorin said. "A full hour did you slept. A shame though, I did want to show you the beauty of Irmo's gardens, but I didn't dare wake the two of you."

Elizabeth hopped off the wagon and was struck breathless by the serene beauty of Olorin home. It was not a place of opulent grandeur but of simple unsophisticated charm, what it lacked in wasteful superficiality was made up by the homely quality that exudes welcoming hospitality. Spacious fields of green stretches out levelly around her, walled off by a waist high stone wall that marked the border between Olorin's home and the surrounding forest. Standing tall to her right was a towering, magnificent tree, the bark, trunk and branches were sturdy and powerful, its craggy but gleaming surface bespoke of great age and care that went into its preservation. The rippling leaves above glittered like jewel in the sun, singing a soft lullaby as it rustled against the wind gentle whisper, blanketing the ground in an inviting shade.

Flanking the smooth cobble path they now stood upon were hedges brimming with flowers, blooming in vivid radiance. Roses, daffodils, irises, magnolias, dandelions and some other species that she didn't recognized dotted the dark green bushes, trimmed into a smooth sphere with brilliant expertise. Even the grasses at the base share the same uniformity in height and quality. Regardless of what she thought of the grumpy Olorin, the man really has a green thumb.

"These are beautiful," Elizabeth ran a finger over a slightly damp petal. "Did you tend to all of this yourself?"

"Of course," there was a hint of smugness in Olorin tone, "another one of my talents that I'm proud of."

"And so you should be," Eleanor bends down and sniffed a deep blue rose, the fresh fragrant bringing a smile to her face. "So, about the food…"

Eleanor was walking toward a single storey cottage a couple of paces in front of them, when Olorin swiftly lowered his staff and barred her way, his face scrunching in a serious frown.

"I thought you said you were going to feed us?" Eleanor asked, her stomach rumbling again.

"You are not stepping inside my house looking like that," Olorin announced before turning briskly on his heel, threw open the round door of his abode and vanished into its dark confines.

"Wait there," came a fading echo, "I'll be a moment."

"We don't look that bad…" Eleanor began but cringed at the sight of her ruined shirt. "Okay, I guess we do look that bad."

"He's probably going to fetch our food," Elizabeth gave a positive spin on Olorin rather rude behavior.

"Honestly, I wouldn't mind one bit," Eleanor glanced across the field.

"I know, right? You couldn't wish for a more perfect picnic spot."

"I wonder how he managed to do all of this, he couldn't have done it all by himself, I mean, look at how big this place is."

"Maybe he used magic?"

"Oh, don't you even start."

They were both giggling when Olorin reappeared, cradled in his left arm was not a basket of food as Elizabeth had hoped but a wooden box brimming with what appeared to be towels, glass aqua bottles and fist size creamy square blocks. Wait a minute, is he suggesting that they…!

"Follow me, quickly now," Olorin strode along a flagstone path that led behind his house, "there's a spring just down these steps, come along."

Elizabeth and Eleanor traded looks of utter shock before jogging after Olorin down the gentle decline with no small amount of reservation. Like his front lawn, the spacious pathway was lines with trees and flowers, beautiful and smartly placed to give the area an airy and relax atmosphere.

"And here we are," Olorin came to a stop before a medium size, crystal clear pond with a small waterfall running on the far side, the water cascading in a gentle but uninterrupted sheen that it appears to create a veil of mirror. Like everything else, the place was unimaginably immaculate.

"I got you some proper clothe also," Olorin placed the box down on the sandy bank, "apply the oil on your bruises, it will help greatly with your wounds and that horrid stench on the both of you."

"You expect us to wash up in there?" Eleanor gave Olorin an incredulous look, fidgeting uncomfortably as she drew herself into a coy hug.

"Of course," the old man seemed confused, "where else would you go to clean yourself?"

"Maybe a shower?" Elizabeth suggested, not really entertaining the idea of bathing in a pond, even if it did look really inviting.

"I know not of these 'showers' you speak of, but here, this is how we cleanse our bodies," Olorin turned and walked back the way they came, his staff tapping an unhurried tune. "Take your time young ones, it will be a while before the meal is ready."

Elizabeth and Eleanor waited until the sharp clicking of wood on stone faded to silence, and it wasn't until they heard the unmistakable thud of shutting door that the two turned to regard each other, bashful red rising up both their cheeks.

"Well…" Elizabeth began after a moment, "the water looks pretty clean."

"Yeah…" Eleanor concurred with a slow nod, "nice enough to skinny dip in."

Elizabeth gulp loudly and cast quick glances around the pond, searching for a thick bush or a tall tree nearby that she could skittered behind and undressed. Unfortunately, the ground around the pond was bare of vegetation.

"So…" Eleanor continued, "how do we proceed?"

"You can go first," Elizabeth offered. "I'll stand watch while you do your business."

"That hardly seems fair," Eleanor continued. "Olorin doesn't seems like the peeping type, and the pond is big enough for the two of us."

Elizabeth saw that Eleanor was right, they could easily bathe without getting in each other's way. Furthermore, she was becoming more self-conscious of how filthy she was, the urge to scrub herself clean was growing stronger with every passing second.

"And besides," Eleanor gave cheeky grin, "I've already seen you naked before."

"Oh, don't make this any weirder than it has to be!" Elizabeth spluttered, cheeks flushing red. "Right, so, backs to each other like in the locker room."

"Alright," Eleanor snickered and turned around. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth began stripping down to her undergarment, her shirt and trouser crackled and ruffled stiffly from the crust of grime and dried blood that adorned the once soft fabric.

Casting a wary glance at the direction Olorin went, making sure that the old man wasn't lurking where he shouldn't, Elizabeth quickly discarded her bra and panty, standing stark naked with only her arms and hands to provide any modesty.

"Are you done?" Eleanor asked.

"Yeah," Elizabeth nodded, still not turning around, "get in first, then I'll follow."

"Okay," Eleanor demur voice was followed by the soft pattering of feet on sand. Expecting the slow sloshing of parting water, Elizabeth jumped in surprise when she heard a loud splash as Eleanor, most obviously, decided to the dive into the pond.

"Gah! Cold! Cold!" Eleanor gasped as she broke the surface, followed by the rapid kicking and slapping of water as she swam away.

"I'm far enough now," Eleanor called after a moment, "get in."

"Is your back turned?" Elizabeth still kept her eyes forward.

"I won't peek, honest," Eleanor reassured her playfully.

Not wanting to stand around with all of her private parts barely covered, Elizabeth spun quickly on her heel and dashed for the water, almost slipping on the sandy bank as she waded into the pond, gasping at the low, almost icy temperature. When the water came up to her waist, Elizabeth dropped down until she was almost seated on the smooth, rocky bottom, submerging herself to the neck.

"Oh my God, it is cold," Elizabeth teeth chattered slightly, but soon enough the coldness settled and she found herself quite comfortable.

"Told you so," Eleanor snickered, "but it feels kinda nice after a while."

"You're right," Elizabeth began relaxing until her body was reclining almost horizontally. Then with a gentle kick, she pushed herself into the deeper end of the pond. There was a sense of indescribable freedom as she glided across the calm, clear surface, like floating weightless through the air.

Without realizing, Elizabeth had allowed herself to be submerged, easing gently beneath the surface after a quick gulp of air. She felt at peace as she gazed up at the broke sky, the sun dancing vibrantly across the shimmering surface. But then a black shape came to loom over her and put an end to the sparkling light, where it remained unmoving. Before she could question the apparition sudden appearance, the dark shape lunged for her, its hands crashing through the water.

Painful memories assailed her in that moment, prying open unwanted recollection that she thought longed buried and forgotten within the deepest recesses of her mind, the memory of Booker, of how she and her alternate copies brought an end to Comstock cycle of violence by drowning her own biological father.

And now the time has come for her to reap that sin.

Plumes shot out from Elizabeth mouth in a muffled scream as the hands latched on to her shoulders. Kicking and twisting like a fish caught in a net, Elizabeth fought with blind desperation even after she was lifted above the water, voices returning in a jarring boom.

"No! Let me go!" She screamed.

"Elizabeth, stop!" It took a rather rough shaking for her to realize that it was Eleanor who had pulled her up.

"Eleanor?" Elizabeth blinked a few times. "What…what happened?"

"I thought you were drowning," Eleanor said, "you just slipped under and didn't came up so I swam over to see what's wrong."

"I'm…I'm sorry it's just…" hot tears welled in Elizabeth eyes as her voice begin to crack, "it's this place…it reminded me of where Booker was…baptized. And when you stood over me I just panicked…"

"Hey, it's okay, just don't think about it, alright?" Before she could react, Eleanor closed the distant between them and, just as she did when Elizabeth had suffered through the nightmares, wrapped her in a tight embraced. The warmth exuding from Eleanor was soothing and Elizabeth, despite the lack of modesty, allowed herself to sink into the girl's hug. Eleanor had always possessed that natural motherly touch, despite being the younger of the pair.

"Umm…Eleanor?" Elizabeth spoke up after a moment.

"Yes Elizabeth?" Eleanor asked.

"Not that I mind the hug, but I think we're forgetting something."

"What is it?"

"We're standing in the middle of a lake, soaked from head to toe and very, startling naked. And we are touching each other."

Eyes widening, Eleanor leapt off Elizabeth with a squeal before dunking herself into the pond until only her reddened face poked above the surface. Chuckling softly, Elizabeth seated herself down, the water coming up to her neck as she shared a moment of comfortable silence with Eleanor.

"Sorry," Eleanor said after normal shade returned to her face.

"I'm not that prude Eleanor," Elizabeth offered, "but, thank you. You always know how to calm me down."

"Don't mention it," Eleanor smiled. "How are you feeling now? Should we get out of the water?"

"No, that's okay," Elizabeth took in the pristine surrounding and was surprised when no unwanted memory reared itself. "I think I'll take my time with the bath, Olorin was right when he said that we stank to high heaven."

"He could've minced words a little," Eleanor pouted. "Didn't he give us some soap too?"

"He did, hang on," Elizabeth swam back to the bank, making sure that her body remained underwater, and grabbed the box full of cleaning amenities. Elizabeth was hefting up the wooden box when her fingers slipped and the lidless case fell into the pond. But instead of sinking, Elizabeth was surprised to see that it floated, bobbing lazily above the water like a ship without sails.

"That's nice and convenient," Elizabeth reached into the box and withdrew a bar of amber hued soap, giving it a sniff. "These smells really good."

"Our host is prepared for everything it seemed," Eleanor swam up to the box and took another soap, this one with a light sapphire shade. "Do you think he made all of this himself?"

"I haven't a clue," Elizabeth began running the soap gently over her arm, bones and muscles still tender despite Olorin strange healing, watching as sheen of bubbles began forming with every scrub, the delicate flora fragrant caressing and sweet. She didn't know whether to be thankful or slightly disturbed by the recluse old man expertise on womanly product.

For the minutes that followed, Elizabeth and Eleanor washed away the accumulated grime off their dirty body with slow meticulous stroke. All the while they talked and laughed, the calming and, surprisingly, safe atmosphere allowing them a moment of carefree respite, there problems seemingly far and distant.

"I wonder if Olorin is married," Eleanor mused as she rubbed lavender scented bathing oil on her arm.

"I didn't see anyone else here when we came in, so probably not," Elizabeth said before submerging herself then rose a second later, rinsing her long brown hair.

"He does seem to know a lot about…feminine cleanliness."

"Maybe he got all of this from that town he mentioned."

"And keep them in stock in case a couple of girls happen to show up on his front porch?"

"Okay, now you're making it sound a lot creepier that it has to be. And didn't you said so yourself that he's harmless?"

"I know, I know, but that doesn't make him any less weird," Eleanor dived under water and emerged, her movement natural in the watery environment, rubbing her limbs clean of any lingering blemish. "I think I'm gonna go dry up now, my fingers are getting all pruney."

"Hang on, I'm heading up too," Elizabeth reached into the buoyant box and took out two fluffy cotton towels, handing one to Eleanor.

"Thanks," Eleanor turned away as she got up, Elizabeth mirroring the younger girl as she dried herself.

"Let's see what Mr. Olorin have prepared for us," Elizabeth wrapped the towel around her chest and strode back ashore, the box of dresses and appliances cradle under her arm. Taking out the soft, breezy attire, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. "Oh, these look nice!"

"Ugh," Eleanor wasn't thrill as she came to stand beside Elizabeth.

"Oh come on Eleanor, you'll look great in them," Elizabeth gave the sweetest, most pleading puppy look she could conjured, "besides, I already endured wearing those jeans without a peep of complain, couldn't you do the same for theses dresses? Pretty please?"

"Alright! Just stop giving me those looks," Eleanor took the dress from the victoriously grinning Elizabeth and cast a look at their old discard clothes. "Truth be told, I don't really look forward to wearing my old knickers again."

"Mr. Olorin provides," Elizabeth held up a pair of snuggly looking undershirts and knee length legging, handing one to Eleanor.

"Quite an antique sense of fashion Mr. Olorin has," Eleanor spun around and began dressing herself, Elizabeth doing the same thing. "As in, these would be very popular when the Mayflower set off from England."

"It's really comfortable though," Elizabeth slipped on the undershirt and legging, the warm and clean fabric clinging perfectly to her frame, "and it's a lot less revealing than those bras and panties from the seventy, that's for sure."

"Can't argue with that," Eleanor gave a little stretch to test the fabric elasticity before gazing at the dresses, "now how do I put these on?"

"Simple, just slid it over your head like this," Elizabeth threw the light blue dress over her head, wiggled her arms into the sleeves and tied the front laces until the clothe was wrapped firmly over her body. "See?"

"I can't."

Elizabeth had to stifle a laugh when she saw Eleanor struggling to put on her outfit, the dark green dress stuck half way between her head and chest, hands and arms flailing as she tried to squeeze into the constricting fabric.

"Can you stop giggling and help me?!" Eleanor demanded crossly as Elizabeth moved to assist.

"Okay, okay," Elizabeth reached over and held Eleanor still as she pulled the dress down over her head. "There, all good."

"Thanks," Eleanor laced up her dress and spun herself a couple of times, grinning as she watched the airy bottom hem rippled like a gentle ocean wave. "This is actually pretty nice. Not really my style, but still good."

"Told you so," Elizabeth went over and pick up their old shirts and boots, piling the grimy ensemble atop the assortment of used soap, empty oil vials and towels as she and Eleanor quickly put on the soft slippers that was prepared for them.

"Ah! Good, you're both finished," they both spun to see Olorin approaching, his clicking staff muffled by the grass, "the water wasn't too cold, I hope?"

"It was just right," Eleanor smiled and hefted up the box of bathing accessories.

"Very good then," the old man turned back toward his house, "come along little ladies, supper awaits."

He led them back to his abode at an easy, unhurried gait.

"Leave the box over there," Olorin pointed to an empty space beside the wall as he opened the thick, round wooden door of his home. "After you."

"Thank you," Elizabeth did a courtesy, Eleanor attempting the same gesture with mild success before the pair strode inside. The ceiling and floor were of rich, dark mahogany, so spotless in its cleanliness that sunlight reflected brightly off the polished surface. Creamy white wall ran the length of the strangely circular corridor lined with paintings, portraits of people, stands with pots of flower, and occasional weapons hanging from a rack.

"Your food is this way, follow me," Olorin said as they traversed the curved hallway, the hearty smell growing stronger with every step, making Elizabeth, and more than likely Eleanor, mouth watered.

"Please make yourself comfortable," he led them into an oval kitchen, a circular table draped in intricate white embroidered cloth dominating the medium size room. Sitting at the center of the tabletop was a large, smooth earthen bowl filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables, and at the rim of the table were two big plates of steaming crispy brown sausages and a large mound of golden mashed potatoes.

"Is that banger and mashes?" Eleanor was breathless as she lowered herself down on a high back chair, eyeing the food like a starving predator. Elizabeth was more subtle in her gawking as she took a seat, but it was becoming more difficult not to lunge at the plate.

"Pork sausages and mashed potatoes actually," Olorin grabbed a white porcelain sauciere and poured a healthy serving of thick gravy over their food, rich heavenly aroma wafting over them. "Well don't just stare at it, eat! I put quite an effort into it you know?"

Fumbling for the knife and fork, Elizabeth stabbed the sausage, craved out a larger than polite piece and chomped down voraciously. It was one of the most delicious dish she had ever eaten. The crunchy texture, the soft inside that burst with flowing meaty juice, the tangy spices that gave a kick to every bite, the sweet mashed potatoes mixing with the creamy gravy, everything blended together perfectly.

Etiquette forgotten, Elizabeth attacked the food with ravenous frenzy, not caring if she was making a mess of herself. She was so hungry. Stealing a glance beside her, she could see Eleanor wolfing down her food with an equally frightening gusto, biting and scooping the meats and potatoes into her mouth with little regard to propriety, not that she was any better herself.

Before she even realized it, she was mopping thick gravy across the empty plate and scooping it into her mouth. A satisfied feeling now sat in her stomach, but Elizabeth was surprised that her hunger has not been fully satiated.

"You two are messier than a band of dwarf at a feast," Olorin laughed and went over to an iron pot hanging above a hearth, scooping a ladle full of stew into two earthen bowls before placing it before Elizabeth and Eleanor, the smell of cooked vegetables and meat igniting their appetite anew.

"Eat slowly now," he went back to his seat, "I doubt you have the stony constitution of a Durin's folk, don't want to get sick now, do we?"

Elizabeth nodded her agreement, lifting the wooden spoon to her mouth and slowly sipped the broth. She heard of people, starving people to be precise, who gorged down the first food they found only to die because their body couldn't handle the sudden influx of nourishment.

"Thank you for the food, Mr. Olorin," Eleanor slurped loudly, earning a rather disapproving look from Elizabeth, "we really appreciate your help."

"As I said, it is not in my nature to abandon those in need," the old man took a bite out of his green leaf salad, "and it has been many years since I have the pleasure of being in the company of humans."

"Umm…why do you keep saying that?" Eleanor placed the spoon down beside her empty bowl. "Were you expecting something else? And forgive me, but you look pretty human yourself."

"Do I now?" Olorin gave a playful smile and continued eating his food.

"Where are we exactly, Mr. Olorin?" Elizabeth broached the question that has been nagging her since their arrival. But what had tickled her interest had been Olorin himself. His feature, his mannerism and his penchant for fireworks was identical to a character in a fantastical work of fiction she had been reading.

"Are we…" Elizabeth gulped loudly, knowing how ridiculous this will sound, "in the Shire, by any chance?"

Olorin stared at her for a moment, his eyes becoming sharp like that longsword she saw hanging in the hallway. But his gaze softened and a low, rumbling laugh parted his grinning bearded face. Elizabeth could've sworn she saw something akin to reminisce and an obvious hint of longing in that mirthful expression.

"No child, we're not in the Shire," Olorin said, "though I wouldn't mind visiting Bag End one more time."

"If this is not the Shire, then where are we?"

"Valinor, the Undying Land."

Elizabeth just stared blankly at Olorin, the name uncomprehending. She turned to Eleanor, who gave her a shrug and said:

"Hey, don't look at me. I'm not the one reading that book."

"Ah, so you've read the Red Book of Westmarch," Olorin finished his food.

"I'm pretty sure the word 'ring' showed up quite a few times in the title," Eleanor continued.

"The Fellowship of the Ring, perhaps?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I've been told that in other places beyond the stars, the hobbit's masterful account of the end of the Third Age have been collected into a compendium and renamed the Lord of the Rings. Quite a fitting title I suppose, but I'm still more fond of the original name."

"Oh my God, we're in a children book," Eleanor placed a palm over her face.

"You're him, aren't you?" Elizabeth said excitedly. "The wizard in gray, Gan-Gan…Dof? No, wait! Gandalf? Yes! You're Gandalf the Gray."

"Very few called me by that name anymore," the pipe from before suddenly materialized in his hand, which he proceed to stuff it full of fresh tobacco leaf. "So I guess further introduction isn't required?"

"Well, I've only read a few chapters," Elizabeth added sheepishly, "the book was rather slow."

"Then I won't spoil the story to come," Olorin lit the pipe and blew out a healthy plume. "The most grievous offense one could commit to an avid reader is to ruin the content of the book."

"You said places beyond the stars," Eleanor cut in. "So you are aware of the multiverse theory and the infinite number of realities that lies beyond this plain of existence."

"If that is your contrived way of saying that other realms exist besides this patch of earth Ilúvatar and the Valar sang to life, then yes, I know full well of its machination," Olorin gave her a smug look. "And take solace in the knowledge that you are not the first to stumble into Valinor."

"Others had come before us?" Elizabeth felt a chill rushing up her spine. "When? Was it recently?"

"Quite a while ago, if memory served," Olorin tapped his pipe thoughtfully. "The most recent incidents occurred a couple of years ago. A lean, strange human man with black hair stumbled, quite suddenly, into the Grand Palace when the Council was holding a meeting. The youth looked confuse at first before becoming hysterical, raving about how this place was not the Cosmere or some such nonsense. We had to subdue him and then, after calming him down, managed to help him return to where ever it was he came from. Then there was that time when Legolas and his patrol were engaging orcs raiding party near the western shore when a young human woman, with hair of ashen white, appeared in a flash of light in the thick of the battle. Before anybody could comprehend what was going on, she fell on both elves and orcs alike with her sword, fought like a she-devil she did before disappearing as suddenly as she had arrived. Gave young Greenleaf a rather nasty cut on the arm too."

"I see," Elizabeth breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that Columbia and Sofia haven't arrived before them.

"So how did you come by here?" Olorin asked her expectantly.

"I feel like we already had this conversation," Eleanor piped up and Elizabeth didn't disagree. It only felt like hours ago when she and Eleanor was explaining to Verl the curator of how they came into his museum. Elizabeth had a feeling that they were going to be explaining the same thing every time they enter a new reality. A rather monotonous affair, but Elizabeth didn't mind sharing what she knows. Loyalty is brought with honesty, as Tangmo had put it.

So without wasting anytime, Elizabeth recounted their flight through multiple worlds, the nature of hers and Eleanor power, the Master and the Eight's assistance, and the people pursuing them. Olorin didn't interrupted once, listening intently to Elizabeth account with unwavering focus. By the time her story was done, the light lancing through the windows was already taking a deep orange hue.

"Should've known the Master was involved with this in some way," Olorin got up and strode over to a cabinet situated high above them, taking out a pair of crystal blue glasses and a clear bottle with golden liquid inside.

"Mr. Master seems to be rather well known across the cosmos," Eleanor said as Olorin poured them a glassful. Elizabeth took a slow sip, it was apple cider, pretty cold too.

"That he is," Olorin took his seat again. "He helps with our…situation here, but there are times that his good intention inadvertently became a source of great grievance for the people of this land. That was why he had promised the Council to never allow his wards to step foot on Valinor again."

"The Eight are barred from coming here?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.

"Their predecessors were the ones who set the precedent. You said you met them, do you believe it is fair to forbid them access to the Undying Land?"

"…Yes," Elizabeth said after some hesitation, the image of Tangmo and Laura indiscriminate slaughter across Mercy Fall flashing across her mind.

"If you don't want this place turning into the Dying Land, then keep them far away," Eleanor laughed dryly.

"All for the best then," Olorin was silent for a moment before speaking. "There is a way to contact the Master. Tomorrow morning, we will leave for Valmar and petition lady Galadriel for aid in this matter, she should be able to help with your predicament."

"Thank you," Elizabeth was unable to believe the old man absolute willingness to help them. "I don't know what to say…how can we ever repay you?"

"Your gratitude should suffice," Olorin blew another puff of smoke, "and finish the Red Book of Westmarch." He then shot Eleanor a hard look. "If you would have taken the time to actually read it, you will see that it is far from a children book."

"Okay, I promise to give it a try," Eleanor held up her hands in mock surrender before continuing. "Are you sure you want us here? I mean, we're grateful for your assistance but there are people after us. That could put you in very messy position if they discovered that you've been helping us."

Olorin spluttered a laugh at that, "they are welcome to try."

Elizabeth and Eleanor gave each other unsure looks as Olorin got up, "the guestroom is at the end of the hall, follow me."

Wiping their hands and mouths with the table napkins, Elizabeth and Eleanor followed Olorin down the quickly darkening corridor, the painting and portraits that decorated the walls becoming harder to discern as shadow crept slowly to encompass the interior. Olorin muttered something under his breath and light, warm and low, flooded the hallway, the cold iron chandeliers above their heads pulsing to life.

Yes, magic. Guess she'll have to get use to that.

They came to a stop before another round door, which Olorin pushed open and ushered them inside. It was a homely little room, with a closet, a small desk, a stand with a pitcher of water and a bowl, and finally a single queen size bed.

Oh.

"Make yourself comfortable," Olorin turned back into the corridor. "I'll be taking a little walk."

"Thank you," Elizabeth called after him as she eased the door closed, then gave the circular entrance a quick look over, searching for locks and latches.

"I don't think we need to worry about that now," Eleanor kicked off her slippers and lay down on the bed. "If he had wanted to do something, he could've have just poisoned the food and drink."

"I guess you're right," Elizabeth seated herself down at the end of the bed, stretching lazily. "Guess we have to share."

"Elizabeth, we just bathed together then hugged each other naked, I think this is a lot more tolerable," Eleanor gave a sly, almost sultry grin then, "So come on, don't be afraid little lady, snuggle up next to me, I'll keep you nice and warm."

Elizabeth eyes narrowed to a slit, "I'll sleep on the floor then."

"Oh come on Elizabeth, it's just a joke!" Eleanor fumbled for an apology.

"Hmm!" Elizabeth rose from the bed, got out of her slippers then proceeds to unlace the dress and threw it over her head, much to the surprise of Eleanor.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?!" Eleanor spluttered as Elizabeth strode up to her, wearing nothing but her white undershirt and legging, threw open the bed cover and scooted up next to the paling woman. "Stop! I was only kidding, don't make this weird!"

"You don't sleep in a full dress Eleanor," Elizabeth lay down on a pillow and pulled the duvet over her. "That's what the undershirts are for."

"Oh," Eleanor leapt to her feet and began undressing, stopping only when she noticed Elizabeth lazy eyes on her. "Why are you staring?"

"Consider it punishment for being so rude to me," Elizabeth said haughtily and waved for Eleanor to continue.

"Never took you for a voyeur," Eleanor grumbled half-heartedly and undid her dress before draping it over on a nearby chair.

"There's nothing to see any way," Elizabeth shrugged.

"Oh! Sorry for not being well endowed enough to your liking!"

"That's not what I – ugh! All I'm saying is that the clothe is very conservative."

"…I see," Eleanor slid into bed beside Elizabeth, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling. "This feels so good."

"I know, right?" Elizabeth said. "Finally we can rest up a bit."

"Do you think Olorin will be okay if Daisy shows up?" Eleanor turned to look at her.

"She won't show up," Elizabeth gave her a reassuring smile. "Besides, there's no way she got out of Tokyo without that giant lizard trampling all over her."

"We can only hope," Eleanor chuckled lightly. "God, I can't remember the last time I was this tired."

"Not even Rapture?"

"No. Back when me and Delta were making our escape, we at least knew that the end was insight, regardless of the outcome. Not like right now…"

"I understand."

"…Do you think this will ever end?"

"This little cat and mouse game with my doppelganger and your mother? Of course it will."

"But will it end good for us? Will we survive? Will one of us have to die? Or will Columbia and mother get what they want…"

"Oh Eleanor," Elizabeth turned to look at Eleanor, the vulnerability etched upon her usually resolute visage, moment from cracking to tears, almost made her wept.

"I'm sorry," Eleanor wiped her eyes, "I know I shouldn't say something like that, but I'm just so tired. I'm tired of living every moment in fear and I'm tired of running with no end in sight. I want to believe there's sunshine and rainbow waiting for us on the horizon but…God…I just want it all to stop."

"Shhh, it's okay Eleanor, I understand," Elizabeth reached out and gently stroked Eleanor wet cheek.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a downer sometime," Eleanor sobbed softly.

"Hey, we're only human," Elizabeth said. "We're going to survive this, you hear me? We'll get through this and spend the rest of our lives free, the past buried and dead for good. So don't cry, you're the bravest and smartest person I've ever known, there's no way Columbia and Sofia could win against someone like you."

"I could say the same thing about you," Eleanor gave a petite laugh before cupping Elizabeth hand with her own. "Thank you Elizabeth."

"You're welcome Eleanor," Elizabeth smiled warmly as Eleanor drew back her hand and turned her head back toward the ceiling, yawning mightily.

"Kinda early to be dozing off, don't you think?" Elizabeth observed the still bright sunlight shinning through the open window, but despite the illumination she could feel the heavy shroud of sleep coming over her.

"At this point, I think I'll sleep until noon," Eleanor turned her back to Elizabeth and drew the duvet over her shoulders. "Good night."

"Yeah," Elizabeth pulled the cover tighter around her, eyes stuttering close, "Good night."

Like their short nap earlier, Elizabeth sleep was deep and peaceful, nothing but comforting blackness as her mind and body slowly rejuvenated, taut muscles and a throbbing bruises becoming a ghostly sensation that slowly soothed to nothingness.

But then the dark tranquility began rupturing to a very pronounced, but muffled, argument rumbling at the edge of her hearing, the tremor growing stronger until Elizabeth, with very audible reluctance, stirred awake. Groaning wordlessly, Elizabeth wiped the sleep from her eyes and cast a groggily glance around the room. The sun still shone through the window but it had taken a brighter, whiter hue and the temperature was noticeably chillier.

Blinking away her sleepiness, Elizabeth quickly tune her ears to the heated conversation booming from somewhere in the house, the tone putting her on edge.

"You cannot do this!" A voice exclaimed, Olorin.

"Lady Galadriel orders are indisputable," another voice, male and melodious, countered with a hint of regret. "I'm sorry but I cannot disobey her."

"Those two are my guest! I will not allow you to treat them like common criminals when they have done nothing wrong. Now be gone!"

"We have our orders to bring those two interlopers in, my rangers already have the vicinity surrounded and my soldiers stand ready to storm your abode if you do not comply."

"You dare!?"

"I'm sorry Mithrandir, the lady command and I must obey. Believe me when I say I do not wish for this to end in blood."

"I believe you." The declaration was one of scorn more than that of understanding as the bang of slamming door reverberated through the house, followed by quick stomping that drew nearer and nearer.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth grabbed Eleanor and shook. "Eleanor, wake up!"

"Huh?" Eleanor's eyes fluttered open slowly. "What's going on?"

Her answered came when Olorin burst into their room, his bearded face twisted in rage but Elizabeth could see something akin to disappointment in his steely gray eyes.

"Get dress, we have to go," he announced raptly before turning to leave, but stopped just inside the doorframe.

"There is nothing I can do," his voice was low and heavy with distress. "I'm sorry."


	21. Of Elves and Dragons

Elizabeth was about to respond to Olorin hasty apology when the old man disappeared down the corridor, his stomping feet making an agitated melody on the wooden floor.

"Just when I thought things were going our way," Elizabeth sighed and strode over to where her dress laid neatly folded on a small table, unlike Eleanor's own which was haphazardly thrown over a chair.

"Look at it this way," Eleanor slipped on her dress, "at least we got a bath, a belly full of food and a nice long sleep out of it."

"I guess so," Elizabeth finished up the final detail on her dress. "You need a hand?"

"No, I got this," Eleanor tied up the laces and stretched lazily, her joints giving a satisfying pop.

"You know, despite the rather rude wake up call," Eleanor continued, shaking off the last of her sleep. "I'm actually feeling pretty good."

"I know, right?" Elizabeth agreed but quickly became solemn. "Still, I rather wake up to a nice hot cup of coffee instead of an army."

"There's an army outside?!" Eleanor yelled in surprise.

"From what I heard, yeah."

Eleanor darted to the window and poked her head outside. The yard, garden and surrounding forest were eerie peaceful, no hint of any visible disturbance. Edging back into the room Eleanor concentrated, feeling the replenished ADAM coursed through her veins as she ignited the Incinerate plasmid, bright flame engulfing her hand.

"How are you feeling?" Elizabeth asked.

"Spoiling for a fight," Eleanor flicked her wrist, extinguishing the chemical fire.

"I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me too. But no harm in being ready."

Locking eyes with Elizabeth, Eleanor gave her a sharp nod before striding into the corridor with the brunette at her side, backs straightened and chin held high, looking proud with a tiny hint of arrogance. They found Olorin waiting for them around a corner, and Eleanor almost tripped over her own feet when she saw the gleaming longsword that had hung on the wall yesterday now strapped across the old man's hip.

"Here, put these on," so dumbfounded by the sight of the armed old man, Eleanor didn't see the pair of traveling boots until it was almost pressed against her nose.

"Thanks," Eleanor kicked off her slippers and quickly put the boots on, a little tight around the ankle but nothing too noticeable.

"What's happening Mr. Olorin?" Elizabeth asked.

"Trouble," Olorin said simply and lead them out to the front yard.

There was indeed an army waiting for them. Lines of infantry stood in pristine ranks, superbly intricate kite shields and leaf blade spears held tight to their chest in a parade stance, unmoving like statue. They all wore green armor of overlapping plate trimmed in gold and conical helm of the same color, polished to a mirror shine, the sun dancing off the metal. Long golden locks of various shade, from brilliant yellow to an almost silvery sheen, cascaded down their shoulders. Standing beside the foot soldiers were horsemen astride powerful looking steed, beautiful bow of snow white wood strapped across their backs, quivers full of red fletching arrows hung from their hips and curve swords dangled from their saddle.

So used to the motley crew that was Rapture and Columbia 'army', Eleanor couldn't help but be intimidated by these serious looking lot.

Flexing her fingers, Eleanor willed the plasmid to the center of her palms, feeling the hot chemical dancing beneath the skin, excited and eager for release.

She took in the forces arrayed against her, a dozen riders and doubled that number of infantry. Eleanor narrowed her eyes. The odds were not looking good for her.

One of the riders, his helmet tide to the pommel of his saddle, approached them then, so unbelievably handsome that Eleanor and Elizabeth couldn't help but gawk.

"I thank you for understanding Mithrandir," regret weigh heavy in his melodious voice.

"Understanding can hardly be prescribed when one is coerced, Glorfindel," Olorin snapped and leapt up Shadowfax, his movement swift and graceful. "If they are to be taken before the Council, then you can be sure that I shall be there with them."

The blonde, Glorfindel, looked about ready to retort but instead settled for a tired sigh and a quick nod.

"Very well," he waved crisply toward the rank of soldiers. They parted files with such sudden uniformity that Eleanor and Elizabeth jumped with a squeak, creating an avenue for them toward the cart, being pulled by a more fitting brown roan this time.

Her posture firm and unbent, Eleanor kept her chin high as she and Elizabeth strode on to the cart and seated themselves down, doing their best to ignore the hard unblinking regards of the soldiers and horsemen.

"I'm sure this is just another misunderstanding," Elizabeth dusted her skirt as the cart began trudging forward, columns of spearmen and riders moving up to flank them, the stomping of boots and hooves drumming a synchronized tempo.

"That seems to be happening a lot," Eleanor grumbled and turned to Glorfindel, the man having ridden up beside them. "What's wrong with your ears?"

He gave her an annoyed sideway glance.

"I am an Eldar of the Noldor kindred," he began after a moment.

"Okay…" Eleanor didn't have a clue what he'd just said but pressed on regardless, "so I'm guessing you're not human?"

"How observant," the haughtiness in his tone was unbelievably condescending.

"What are you then?" Eleanor continued.

"The common term you are looking for is elf," Olorin cut in. "First born of Ilúvatar, the fairness and noblest of all his children. That is until recently, when their temperament seems to rival the dwarves in stubbornness and pigheadedness."

Glorfindel shot Olorin a hard look, his jaw tightening as if to speak but instead kept silent.

"Elf, good to know," Eleanor nodded then lean toward Elizabeth, her voice lowered, "are these elves the good guys or the bad guys? Because that one is seriously giving me the evil eyes."

"I haven't read that far yet," Elizabeth gave a sheepish grin, "but I remember one of the main character speaking highly of them. Saying how he wished to visit them again and finish his book. Honestly, I would've thought they would be, I don't know, a little more welcoming?"

"Shame, they're all such a looker."

"I know, it's like an army of movie stars and swimsuit models."

Both Eleanor and Elizabeth gave a dreamy, but somewhat disappointed sigh as they turned to openly gape at Glorfindel, admiring the contour of his strong cheekbones and jaws, his piercing eyes, his long flowing hair and his regal stature.

"It is very impolite to stare," Glorfindel said coldly when their gawking went beyond the point of being polite.

"Sorry," Eleanor blushed and shifted her attention to their surroundings. Evergreen forest, rising like pillars of some great ancient wonder, flanked the unremarkable dirt road, roof of gleaming emerald canopy shading the suns golden ray, cool shadow dancing over them.

"Whoa," Eleanor said breathlessly, marveling at the unspoiled manifestation of nature that rose like monuments around them. "I can't believe we slept through this."

"I know," Elizabeth agreed. "But at least we get to see it now."

"Yeah, everything looked so…perfect."

After some time, the forest open up onto the meadow where she and Elizabeth had arrived from the destroyed Tokyo, tents in significant numbers now dotted the green field. Elves in plain clothing, extravagant robes and armor darted about, some carrying crates and some were writing into large ledgers, their noses buried in the thick grimoire. They were all huddled beside the road, more specifically, where the Tear had appeared.

"They know," Elizabeth scooted closer to Eleanor, her words hushed with disbelief.

"But how?" Eleanor eyed the elves as their cart rolled passed, none paid them any heed.

"I haven't a clue," Elizabeth gulped loudly and found Glorfindel giving her a level, steely stare. He was about to speak when a loud, and quite obviously intentional, series of cough arrested Olorin, so annoyingly boisterous that it drew the elf's attention away from them. After a few splutters, the choking subsided as the old man began humming, a deep, harmonious and strangely reverent sound not that dissimilar to a religious hymn. Soon, Olorin began weaving words into the tune, his low timbre powerful and mesmerizing.

" _The world was young, the mountain green. No stain yet on the moon was seen. No words were laid on stream or stone, when Durin woke and walked alone._ "

At the utterance of the first verse the elves spun sharply on Olorin, most stared at him with abject shock while some glared with open hostility.

Eleanor couldn't understand what was making them so grouchy, the song was one the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

And the lyrics…my God the lyrics. It was haunting, somber in some part and grand in other, yet stunning all the same, made more rich by Olorin baritone. It spoke of past glory, of desolation and ruin, and hope in time of greatest despair.

When the final verse came, Eleanor found herself crying:

" _The Shadow lies upon his tomb, in Moria, in Khazad-dum. But still the sunken stars appear, in dark and windless Mirrormere. There lies his crown in water deep, till Durin wakes again from sleep_."

Wiping tears from her eyes Eleanor began clapping, Elizabeth joining with equal gusto, both moved by Olorin's song. The old man gave them a grinning bow, chuckling softly at their appreciation for his virtuosity. All the while, Glorfindel seethed in silence, seemingly offended by the prose and rhyme.

"It is good to see that there are some who still appreciate my voice," Olorin innocent utterance seems to harbor a deeper, more biting undertone directed at his elven audience.

"Your words will always be of great worth to us, Mithrandir," Glorfindel said politely. "Regardless of its merit."

"Guess you didn't like the song then," Eleanor spoke up, and was surprised when Glorfindel respond.

"Not that I dislike it, young lady, I just found it to be in poor taste."

"…Sure."

They soon entered another forested path, the soft wind and blanketing shadow providing a nice relief from the summery sun. After what seemed like hours, the woodlands gave way to an empty plain and Eleanor felt her breath robbed away again.

A city loomed before her, more beautiful and majestic than anything she had ever seen in her life.

Enclosed by shining white wall was a metropolis that stretches from horizon to horizon, intricate towers in flowing, floral like design pierced the sky in thriving magnitude, rivaling modern cityscape like New York in its urban grandeur and size.

"Whoa…" Eleanor mumbled as they neared the gigantic gate of thick timber inlaid with gold, the surface carved into a vivid likeness of two beautiful women, one for each partition. The entrance opened with a minute squeak, swinging apart quickly despite its size.

The thoroughfare inside was bustling with people, Eleanor could barely see the smooth cobble street beneath the crowd of elves going about their daily routines; shopping, trading, talking or just simply hanging out. The traffic quickly parted for them, hawkers and peddlers bolting out of their way with a bow, pedestrians leapt up to stand on the foot path, head held low in reverence, while mothers carried playing children off the street.

But the hubbub of the crowd didn't die down, if anything, the volume only seems to increase when they spotted Eleanor and Elizabeth. Children and some adults stared openly, excited fingers pointed their way, while other appeared more reserved in their observation.

As they rode deeper into the city Eleanor noticed how close to perfection, in term of a functional society, these elves had come. The streets were spotless, the people courteous and calm and not a hint of poverty could be seen. She had expected a medieval society to look a lot more dirty and unwashed, but no, these elves carried themselves with grace regardless of whether they were garbed in a flowing silken dress or a simple working tunic. Even the smallest house looked better than any apartment back home.

"Now I really want to read that book," Eleanor spoke up, "if only to learn more about these people."

"Sure," Elizabeth grinned, "but after I'm done with it."

"Don't take too long."

"Trust me, I won't."

It wasn't long before the road widened on to a grand avenue, leading to a magnificent domed palace that put the greatest of mankind architectural achievement to shame. Great white pillars carved in brilliant pattern of leaves and vines supported the awning, curved roof and lintel fashioned into a mesmerizing wavy pattern, the carpentry and masonry seamless as if carved from a single piece, the bright dome above gleaming like the brightest of pearl.

"This is unbelievable," Eleanor said as she step down from the cart, such a tiny unworthy thing cowering under the shadow of the elven palace, and strode toward an immaculately carved entrance the size of a two-story house.

"This place make Columbia looks like some cheap, childish imitation," Elizabeth came to stand beside her, equally enraptured.

"Guards!" Glorfindel shouted suddenly, jolting Eleanor from her ravine. The soldiers that had accompanied them quickly formed up behind her and Elizabeth, wall of kite shields facing them, while the palace guard in equal number left their post and stalked toward the two, shinning glaives lowered.

"Take them to the dungeon," Glorfindel commanded and the ring of soldiers tightened their noose, creeping closer with trained, martial steps.

"Oh no, you don't!" Back to back with Elizabeth, Eleanor willed Incinerate and Winter Blast to life, fire and ice engulfing her hands as she held it out toward the startled elves, grinning at their reaction. Nearby, Tears began sprouting around the soliders, small and medium in size, shimmering ready at Elizabeth command.

"Enough of this foolishness!" Olorin bulled his way through the encirclement to stand with them and slammed the butt of his staff on the ground, sending an impossibly loud rumble rippling across the flagstone. He shot Eleanor a hard look, the message clearer than any spoken words. Reluctantly, Eleanor powered down her plasmids, opting instead to glare at the elves.

"They will accompany me to the Council," there was an undeniable finality to Olorin announcement, even some of the elves were becoming more hesitant, casting each other wary glances.

Glorfindel locked eyes with Olorin then, the elf's gauntleted hand gripping tight the pommel of his sheathed curved sword. After what seemed like hours, Glorfindel relented to the immovable Olorin, his hand falling to the side with a heavy sigh.

"You brought this upon yourself Mithrandir," his shoulders slump as he waved to his men, "let them through."

As one, the soldiers and guards hoisted up their weapons, the sharpened points aiming skyward, shields braced to their chest and opened a path for the three. With a less than pleasant grumble, Olorin marched purposefully toward the open entrance, Eleanor and Elizabeth hurrying to catch up.

"Good luck," Glorfindel said before the gate slammed shut behind them.

"We must not tarry," Olorin voice was hard as he quickened his steps, "lady Galadriel is not a patient woman. Come along, quickly."

Eleanor wanted to appreciate more of the grand pillared hall, but everything quickly became a blur as she and Elizabeth fought to keep up with Olorin. Soon the hall turned into a wide corridor that twisted and turned like a labyrinth, and by the time Olorin came to a stop before a tall, ornate door, Eleanor and Elizabeth were panting for breath.

Olorin was reaching up his hand to knock the gilded frame when a loud argument froze him mid motion.

"I will not hear any more of this," a woman voice boomed from beyond the closed door, divine in feminine timbre but carrying an undeniable authority that cut like the sharpest blade.

"Lady Galadriel…" a male voice tried to appease her.

"I will not spare a single heartbeat more to this nonsense," the woman, probably this lady Galadriel, swiftly silenced him.

"Oh dear…" Olorin looked trouble, a momentarily hesitation flashed across his face before he tempered it with a look of absolute determination as he slowly, and quietly, eased the door open.

"Be very quiet," he slipped into the room and waved for them to follow, "keep your head low in respect and speak only when you are spoken too, is that understood?"

Eleanor and Elizabeth nodded briskly as they entered a spacious conference room dominated by a large circular table that appeared to have been carve from pale granite, polished to a white sheen.

"I understand your desire to maintain the façade of unity and the indubitable conviction of your people against our adversary," the male voice continued, and although lacking the elves melodic resonance, his baritone sounded deep and powerful enough to bring armies to their knee. "But I beseech you to see reason. It is clear now that the agent of Melkor and Sauron had firmly planted its enterprise deep within the populace of Valmar. To ignore this truth would be to submit ourselves to the whim of our enemies and unbarred our gates for them to stride in unopposed."

There were two people standing at the table, an elven woman and…Eleanor haven't a clue as to what exactly the man was. Although he took the form of a tall, broad shouldered male, he was most obviously not human, the most startling disparity being his bright silver hair and literal black skin, as if he was carved out from a piece of deepest night itself.

While the elf woman he was addressing, well, beautiful would be an absolute understatement. Her beauty was out worldly, divine and ethereal. The sharp contour of her face, the firmness of her rosy lips, the striking gaze, the flowing locks that cascaded down her back like spun gold, everything about her was perfect.

And Eleanor was jealous.

Sure, there was no denying how pretty she was, but to be sharing a room with someone like her causes Eleanor to be very self-conscious of her own rather humble appearance. Now she knows how the ugly duckling felt. It wasn't long before such feeling of inadequacy morphed into spite. Yes, the lady Galadriel was beautiful, but that doesn't mean she have to like the woman.

Beside her Elizabeth appeared more in control, but the pursed lips and puffed cheek told Eleanor that the brunette was barely keeping her own envy in check.

"Have you so little faith in the elven kind, lord Rake?" Galadriel questioned the man, her tone suggesting offense.

"You misunderstood, lady Galadriel," lord Rake held up his hand in supplication, "I do not doubt the mettle of your people, I merely offer insight. I have lived through calamity that end worlds, see tyrants rise and fall, and have seen the most virtuous of men succumbed to seduction and corruption. Time rots everything, even the brightest of jewels."

Galadriel seemed far from placated with Rake statement however, "we will never submit to the temptation of the Dark Ones, Anomander. The light of the Valar shines bright within the heart of all elves. To suggest otherwise is to reveal ignorance of the most unfathomable magnitude. After all these times with us and you have learned nothing."

"My point still stand, Galadriel," Rake countered sharply. "The time of inaction has long passed. Continue to ignore what so blatantly stood before you then a dawn will come where you shall wake and found yourself amongst the ruin of what you hold most dear."

The breathless tension between Rake and Galadriel was a permeable, suffocating thing, like watching two storm moments away from colliding. Even this far from the epicenter, Eleanor wanted nothing more than to vacate the premise and hide.

Their standoff lasted for what seemed like hours before Galadriel finally broke the silence, and Eleanor found herself able to breathe again.

"If you must pursue this path," Galadriel began icily, "then do so with discretion. Keep the visibility of your undertaking to the barest minimum, it would be better not to let the public know and prevent any hysteria that could arise."

"It shall be so," Rake bowed politely. "I thank you for your understanding."

The smile she flashed him was barbed, as if the harmless words he parted carries an insult and she responded with an unspoken admonition. Eleanor observation came to an end when Galadriel turned her head in their direction, eyes widening when she spotted them.

"Why are they here?" her voice was like rasping blade as she looked at Olorin. "They are not supposed to be here."

"Lady Galadriel please allow me to explain…" Olorin began but Galadriel silenced him with a harsh wave of her hand and glided around the table toward them.

"I ordered them placed under arrest," Galadriel came to stand before Olorin, and Eleanor could see that she was a bit taller than the old man. "You've been rather obstinate as of late, but I never expect you to be so bold as to bring these fugitives before my presence."

"My lady…"

"Do you wish to walk them to the cell? Or must I summon the guards and have them dragged away in chains?"

"Hey! What did we ever do to you?!" Eleanor was unable to keep her peace any longer. "We didn't do anything wrong!"

"Every time the sanctity of our realm is breached," the cold look Galadriel gave her made Sofia belittling regards feels warm by comparison, "the wider the Door of Night grew. Out world interlopers are rare but every time they appear, more of our people suffered. Like that insufferable Hoid and the white-haired blade maiden from before, their coming opened new avenues for servants of darkness to pour into Valinor; I will not allow such transgression to go unpunished."

"But that's not fair!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "We never meant to hurt anyone, how can you fault us for a crime that we've no idea we were committing?!"

"Ignorance will not exempt you from judgement," Galadriel raised her hand as if to summon the guard when Anomander step forward before she could utter her command.

"Wait good lady, such action would not be necessary."

"And why is that, my lord?"

"Because I know one of them," Anomander came to stand before Elizabeth and, to the surprise of Eleanor, gave her a polite bow. "Elizabeth, if I recalled?"

Elizabeth breath hitched as her eyes bulged to a gleaming saucer, mouth moving soundlessly before she managed to croak, "yes…I'm Elizabeth."

"Wait, you know him?!" Eleanor spun to face Elizabeth.

"Um…no?" The brunette banished her stupor with a furious shake of her head. "I mean no! I never seen him before in my life."

"Maybe you met him when your omniscient was still intact or in one of those astral projected dreams?"

"I think I would've remember someone who looked like that!" Elizabeth gave Anomander an apologetic look. "No offense my lord."

"None taken. And I apologize for being so presumptive," the silver haired man gave a petite smile. "I am Anomander Rake, and I was present when the Master carried your lifeless body into his domain to be preserved. Him, myself and a pair of red haired twin formulate the plan to restore your life and power. I must say, it is good to see you breathing and alive, and judging from our current predicament, your power has indeed returned to its rightful vessel."

"And what would that power be?" Galadriel demanded, her piercing eyes shone like the sun.

"I think it would be better if Elizabeth herself explain," Rake said.

"Here we go again," Eleanor smirked and rolled her eyes, "all yours."

And once again they explained everything, their powers and the trouble hounding them. Sure, it was getting repetitious at this point, but what can they do? At least this way they can persuade the elves to help instead of throwing them in jail. Eleanor had expected the reception to be similar to Verl and Olorin, one of silent understanding that quickly became an offer to help, which was why she was startled to see Galadriel feature darkened, as if Elizabeth honest admission was some kind of confession.

"You have no mastery over your power," Galadriel said sharply.

"Yes I do!" Elizabeth shot back indignantly.

"You just admitted yourself that your arrival here was made by pure accident," Galadriel pressed on, "such power in untrained hands can bring destruction upon all like a rouge tempest. This is a risk I am not willing to take." She shot Olorin a look. "Take them to the cells below, or I will be force to subdue them."

"You cannot do this!" Olorin retaliated. "Contact the Master, they are under his protection and he is seeking them."

"The Master will be made aware, but in the mean time I will not allow them to roam free."

"Is such savagery necessary? When have we forsaken those who come to us seeking aid? Instead, we now offers them the chain when we should be offering help. Have we truly strayed that far from the light of mercy and kindness?"

"As lord Rake had so eloquently put it, these are dark times Mithrandir. The light that was so clear before are now murky and gray, nothing is as it should be anymore. We've lost so much, and I do not intent to allow more to perish. Make your choice now Gandalf, I've grown weary enough this morning."

"Umm…excuse me?" Eleanor piped up and, ignoring the collective gasp of the room's occupants, strode closer to Galadriel. "But I don't think throwing us in jail would be a really good idea."

"I will not continue this conversation," Galadriel began.

"I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay?" Eleanor pressed on heedlessly, throwing caution to the wind. "You don't need to say anything, just listen, alright?"

If Galadriel was irked by her bluntness she didn't show, the minute agitation that surfaced was instead directed at Rake, who snickered softly at the audacious display.

"Look," Eleanor continued quickly before Galadriel can speak. "I understand you are concerned about your people, good leaders are like that, and you have every right to be. It's only natural that you would want to contain any perceive threat that could potentially harm your lovely city. But ask yourself this, is it smart to try and contain something that you can't hope to understand or control?"

Galadriel gaze narrowed dangerously as she said, "go on."

"You're right you know? We totally have no control over our power."

"Hey!" Elizabeth protest but Eleanor ignored her.

"Now, a good scientist always keeps an eye on dangerous variable instead of isolating it to a petri dish, which would allow the anomaly to grow and change without observation. You might have an inkling of what we're capable of, but you have no idea how any of it actually works. For instance, do you see that Tear over there?" Eleanor pointed at a medium size Tear shimmering weakly behind Galadriel. "What Elizabeth neglect to tell you is that both our powers are driven mainly by emotion, strong one at that. And when we find ourselves in perilous situation, our fear and anger amplified our powers by a significant proportion. Imagine what she can pull through that Tear if she became stress after someone, say, put us behind bars."

It was all a lie, the lack of control and how their power were fueled by emotion. Sure, a little spurt of passion can have a boosting effect on how the plasmid and Tear behave, but it's nowhere near as powerful as she was exaggerating now. But Galadriel doesn't know that.

"Is that a shoggoth lurking behind that Tear Eleanor?" Elizabeth quickly picked up on the act, coming to stand smugly beside Eleanor. "Nasty little critters. Now, I don't want them to crawl through and muck this beautiful place up, but I'm feeling a little stressed right now. Oh Eleanor, you remember how bad things get when I become moody."

"Oh yeah, an entire house almost burned down!" Eleanor made a show of spreading out both of her arms, while at the same time allowing a sprinkling sheen of Winter Blast to escape her palm, painting the nearby pillar frosty white.

"Oops!" Eleanor feigned innocent. "I didn't mean to do that, I was just so nervous."

"You did that on purpose," Galadriel said levelly, looking rather unimpressed by the display.

"Trust me lady, if I did something like that on purpose," Eleanor tried to appear confident, but Galadriel rather unreceptive demeanor was putting her on edge, "this entire place would be in flame by now. And things does get pretty bad when I'm angry, just so you know."

"Let's say that I chose to believe this tripe, what then?"

Okay, Eleanor admit she wasn't expecting that. Galadriel obviously saw through her bluff, but at least she wasn't losing her temper and calling the guards, maybe she really was contemplating the alternative?

"Well…" Eleanor tapped her chin, trying to play it cool. "Since you're so worried about us, why don't we just stay close to you? Just to put your mind at ease and show you that we're not a threat? And if something were to happen then you can react promptly."

"The idea has merits," Olorin cocked his head thoughtfully to the side.

"Elizabeth's friend is right," Rake gave his input. "With the three of us, any unexpected convergence of power can surely be contain."

"Yeah, all three of you can surely handle two little us," Eleanor nodded as Galadriel gazed lowered to the polished floor, giving the proposal a deep contemplation.

"You're really good," Elizabeth whispered beside her.

"I try my best," Eleanor gave her a haughty smile when Galadriel looked up, eyeing them with such unkind intensity that for a moment she thought the elf woman was about to turn everything ugly. Imagine her relief when Galadriel gave a relented sigh and said, "the two of you will not leave my sight until the Master arrive."

"So…we're not going to jail?" Eleanor hazarded the question.

"That option is still open," there was a hint of sly humor in Galadriel tone, a nice change of pace from the rock hard authoritative demeanor she was putting up so far.

"Nope, this is way better than some dank jail cell," Eleanor smiled.

"You have strange way of speaking…" Galadriel words trailed off when the entrance swung open with hastened force and a two palace guards rushed into the chamber with barely restrained fright.

"What is it?" Galadriel eyes hardened on the panting pair.

"My lady," one began after he had gathered his breath, "a hostile force had besieged our walls."

"That is not possible," Galadriel bolted for the door as Eleanor and Elizabeth rushed to keep up, Rake and Olorin on the other hand had no trouble falling into stride beside her.

"How did a band of orcs managed to come this close to our walls without any of the outer sentries sending a warning in advance?" Galadriel voice echoed down the hall.

"They're not orcs milady, they're human."

"What?!" Galadriel stopped and spun sharply to face the two human women. Elizabeth scooted behind Eleanor as Galadriel glared at them with such burning consternation that she thought the elf woman was about to strangle her like a frightened rabbit.

"It's unlike anything we have ever seen before, lady Galadriel," the guard continued, "they arrived just moments ago on these flying ships."

"Flying ships?" Galadriel gave the guard a quizzical look.

"Oh crap," Eleanor knew she should be afraid now that Columbia had once again followed them to another universe. Instead, she felt nothing but grating anger. How the hell did they managed to track them everywhere? Why can't they just leave them alone? When is she and Elizabeth going to get a goddamn break?!

"How many of these flying ships are there?" They stepped out onto the flagstone courtyard as an elf boy hurriedly brought Galadriel steed over, along with a much larger black stallion that she could only assumed belong to Rake.

"A few dozen, my lady," the guard continued.

"Where is Elrond and Thranduil?"

"They're mustering the garrison and heading for the western gate as we speak."

"What of my husband?"

"He's overseeing the evacuation in the western section of the city."

"I shall go and assist Celeborn," Olorin whistled and Shadowfax cantered into view.

"And I will be by your side," Rake rode up to Galadriel as she climbed up her steed, riding side saddle. She gave him a thanking nod and was about to kick her horse into motion when Elizabeth yelled.

"Wait! We know who's attacking, we can help."

"Get them a horse," Galadriel was waving at the servants when Olorin guided Shadowfax toward them.

"Time is of the essence, quickly, hop on," with some difficulty, and a less than a gentle nudge from Olorin, Eleanor managed to scamper on to the saddle, Elizabeth climbing up behind her a moment later with equal exertion, their wide skirt accommodating them easily into an astride position.

Then a thought occurred to Eleanor. She didn't know how to ride a horse. In fact, this is the closest she had ever been to a terrestrial animal since surfacing from Rapture. Birds, small critters and insect doesn't count.

"Wait…" Eleanor spoke up when Galadriel and Rake kicked their horse into a canter. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Go Shadowfax!" Olorin bellowed and the horse bolted into motion, going from a canter to a full gallop in a span of a second.

"Ahhh!" Eleanor could only scream as she held on to the rein for dear life, her torso leaning forward until it was almost lying flat on Shadowfax powerful neck, the task made more difficult by Elizabeth arms around her waist, the tight constriction throwing her off balance, sending her bouncing dangerously on the saddle, while the brunette uninterrupted shrieking almost made her deaf.

Eyes scrunched shut, Eleanor surrendered all control to Shadowfax as he bounded down the road, not really caring where the horse was taking them.

Only when the rapid lurching motion came to a stop that Eleanor finally opened her eyes and rose shakily to an upright position. Heaving deep breaths and wiping sheen of sweat from her face, Eleanor saw that Shadowfax had taken them to the base of the city wall, soldiers and sentries milled around them in a quick, but orderly, fashion, while above archers lined the parapet in tight ranks, standing at attention. Not far from where Shadowfax had stopped stood Galadriel and Rake mounts, being tended by stable boys.

Eleanor gave Shadowfax a pat on his neck, the majestic white steed neighing pleasantly at the compliment.

"Good horsey," Eleanor panted and was about to swing her leg over the seat when she noticed that Elizabeth's arms were still wrapped around her waist, the brunette face buried deep into her back.

"Elizabeth, let go," Eleanor reached down and began prying the interlocking fingers, "we're here."

"Huh?" Elizabeth slowly rise and eased her hold on Eleanor, giving the bustling square a quick look around. "Where are we?"

"I guess where we're supposed to be," with great care, Eleanor slowly lowered herself to the ground, trying her best to imitate the images of how a proper lady dismounted from books and magazines she read. What she managed however was an awkward crawl down the side of Shadowfax that looked more like a crab scaling down a rock face, the ill hidden chortling from the watching elves only made her face burn a brighter shade of red.

Back on the ground, Eleanor was composing herself when a sharp yell from Elizabeth drew her attention back to Shadowfax, and found herself laughing with the elves. As ridiculous as she might have looked, at least Eleanor managed to land on own two feet, unlike Elizabeth who was dangling by her ankle, face planted on the ground, hanging like some discard puppet.

"Stop laughing and help me!" Elizabeth cried indignantly.

"I'm sorry it's just…" Eleanor snorted, trying and failing to hold her laughter in as she untangled Elizabeth, who plopped gracelessly to the ground. "And here I thought I was the only boob around here."

"That really hurt," Elizabeth pouted and brushed the dusts off her face.

"A little red in the cheek, but you should be alright," Eleanor turned toward the wall and waved for Elizabeth to follow. "Come on."

They bounded up the narrow stairs that seemed to be carved into the very wall itself, shouldering pass elves in plain clothing as they hurried up and down the steps, some carrying bundle filled with arrows. After a few minutes, they reached the top and found a squadron of Columbia gunships hovering a few miles away from the wall.

"So these are the people after you?" Galadriel turned to regard them, the elf maiden standing resolute against the invader with poise and grace, her gold locks fluttering in the wind like streaming banner.

"They are," Eleanor squeezed passed the rank of archers to stand beside Galadriel.

"How interesting," Rake said as he adjusted the straps and chink of his midnight armor, his mannerism easy and somewhat curious. When the hell did he found the time to put them on? And why is that sword on his back so big?

"Not since Moon Spawn had I seen aerial warfare in action," Rake mused.

"This should be rather enlightening for me then," Galadriel respond.

"Quite dangerous too, for we must be the one who bear the blunt of the attack."

"You speak from experience then?"

"I do, but I was the one up in the sky then."

Galadriel lips curved into a petite smile when one of the gunship suddenly broke formation and flew directly toward the wall, lowering itself down until the deck was leveled with the parapet. The elves, with mechanical single-mindedness, drew arrows from their quivers, nocked the bow and took aim at the flying machine, only a gentle raise of Galadriel hand stopped the volley from being unleashed, whatever good that would do.

The gunship made a turn so that it was lined up parallel to the walls, and on the empty deck stood a single Person. Columbia.

"Hello Elizabeth, Eleanor," she strode leisurely to the edge of the gunship, her black dress gliding after her like a living shadow. "It's been a while hasn't it?"

"Not long enough," Elizabeth spat.

"Oh I'm hurt! Is that anyway to talk to your sister?" Columbia false civility dripped acidic venom.

"We're not sister!" Elizabeth yelled and Columbia revels in her less than lady like response.

"It's a mirror image," Rake hissed, the huge sword suddenly in his hand, "a doppelgänger of the girl Elizabeth."

"I can see that," Galadriel agreed, drawing immediate ire from Columbia who strode over to stand before the elf and…whatever Rake was.

"You're keeping strange companies these days Elizabeth," Columbia gave Galadriel and Rake a scathing, conceited look down her nose, "you're running to these primitive for help? You two must be more desperate than I thought."

When it appears that her biting words wasn't going to goad Galadriel and Rake into a response, Columbia discarded the conversational tone and opted for a threat instead.

"This is a nice little city you got here," Columbia croon sweetly. "With only a snap of my finger, I can turn every building into smoke and ashes. See, I've been chasing these two little tramps for quite a while now and I'm not in the best of mood. My men share the same annoyance you see, and I might just allow them to let loose a little. It's been a while since they had any good target practice and your peon look inviting enough. This can all be avoided, however, if Elizabeth and Eleanor decide to do what is right."

Eleanor traded quick look with Elizabeth before gazing deep into the doppelgänger piercing blue eyes, identical to the brunette own, she added sickeningly, and saw nothing but dark malice that promised swift retribution if her demands were not met.

She can't let another Mercy Fall happen, she can't let other suffer and die because of her stubbornness again. They had to give up. For the sake of all the innocent that was now caught in the crossfire of this hunt. Eleanor turned to Elizabeth and saw the same forlorn realization weighing down the brunette's pretty face. They locked gaze again, and knew in that moment what must be done.

So this was the end then, the conclusion to their mad dash across space and time, the bitter ending that she had fear but knew deep down was inescapable. Eleanor had to hold back tears as she reached over and took Elizabeth hand, the brunette grip was trembling as she braved a smile for her.

"We have to do the right thing," Eleanor voice begin to crack.

"I know," Elizabeth croaked a reply.

"Well isn't that cute," Columbia sneered, the satisfaction dripping from every enunciation made Eleanor boiled with anger, but all she could manage was a glare. "Enough with the pleasantry, let's get a move on, I've wasted enough time as it is."

"Pull the gunship back," Eleanor voice hardened as she addressed Columbia, "tell your soliders to leave this world or we're not going anywhere with you."

"You're in no position to make any demand, Eleanor," Columbia went on smoothly. "Now, get on the…"

"Leave."

All eyes turn to Galadriel, the elf woman might appear compose but Eleanor could feel the pulsing rage radiating from her. Even Rake was backing away, his gait stiff and cautious.

"I'm sorry, what?!" Columbia baulked, and Eleanor didn't know whether she was simply ignorant to Galadriel rising anger or she was keeping up one hell of a poker face. But before she could continue, Galadriel voice rumble forth, impossibly loud like a crashing storm…and was she glowing?!

"You came to this land uninvited," Galadriel powerful announcement was a resonating boom, sending shockwave across stone and sky. "And you dare to threaten my people with death. You have chosen your words poorly, shadow. Now, despair at the consequence."

"What are you…? Wait, hold on a minute," Columbia's eyes widen when Galadriel raised her hand toward the gunship, a ball of pure silvery energy coalescing on her palm. "Now, let's not do anything rash…!"

Before Columbia can even finish her sentence a wave of white light erupted from Galadriel hand and stuck the gunship like a tsunami. The doppelgänger screamed as she rolled and tumbled across the deck, her fingers digging into the wooden floor as the gunship hurtle through the air, spinning and twisting like a toy caught in a tidal wave, careening toward where the squadron was gathered. With no time to react, the gunships could do nothing as Galadriel's fiery energy struck them like an angry fist of God, explosion blossomed across the sky as the flying war machine crashed into each other before streaking down in tendrils of smoky black plume.

Closing her palm, Galadriel let out a gasp as she leaned wearily on the balustrade, Rake quickly laid a bracing hand on her shoulder.

"I'm alright," Galadriel shrugged Rake's hand off before giving him an acknowledging nod, "thank you."

Eleanor and Elizabeth could only stare at the broken remain that was the squadron, limping Founders darted from one debris to the next, gathering the wounded and dead before setting up a perimeter around the crash site. At the epicenter, Eleanor saw a glint of white light. A Tear. Columbia just made her escape. Well, she might be alive but at least Galadriel send her packing like a whipped dog.

"I guess we're not needed after all,"

Eleanor gave a high pitched yelp when she spun around to see two male elves standing behind her, moving swiftly and quietly despite their bulky armor.

"So you're the human girl that was riding Shadowfax down the street and screaming all the way," a brown hair elf in burgundy armor gave a friendly smile.

"I think that was her, actually," Eleanor pointed her thump at Elizabeth.

"Hey!" Elizabeth gave the ground a hard stomp when the other elf warrior, this one sporting long white blond hair and silver armor, came to stand beside her, sparing the brunette a quick, pompous glance.

"So you've destroyed them," the blonde steely gaze swept across the field.

"Some lives," Galadriel gestured to the survivors.

"I'll order the advance, my troops should make quick work of them."

"No, wait!" Eleanor interjected, startling the blonde elf. "Don't send your warriors in, they'll be killed."

"The enemy is beaten," there was a tired edge in the blonde's voice, like parents who indulged in their child ignorant pestering. "They could do nothing but fall before our onslaught."

"But they have guns!"

That gave the elf pause.

"Guns?" He wasn't familiar with the word, not surprising considering that this place looks a few thousand years away from discovering gunpowder.

"It's a weapon that fire projectiles at their target," Elizabeth stepped in. "The range outclasses the best bow and the rapid rate of fire means they can take out a dozen warriors before they could get close enough to fight. What they lack in number they made up in armament."

None of the gathered elf spoke for a moment, then the blonde turned to look at Rake. Although it was clear that something of a combustible rivalry exist between Rake and Galadriel, tempered by control and decorum, the blonde elf harbor no such courtesy. The look he gave Rake reveal nothing by naked contempt, bordering on hatred. The dark skinned lord, however, reciprocate with a flat look.

"You deal with this then," he spat then stomped away down the wall.

"I shall be quick," Rake slid his sword into the scabbard over his shoulder then, to the shock of Eleanor, stepped on to the railing.

"Good luck Anomander," Galadriel gave him a small, but meaningful smile.

"Thank you," Rake nodded and leapt off the wall. Eleanor and Elizabeth gave a frightened squeal and dashed for the stone balustrade. They were about to peer down when a massive shape shot into the air, the powerful gust streaming in its wake blasting the pair off their feet.

Rubbing her bottom, Eleanor gazed up to see…a dragon.

A black and majestic beast of terrible splendor, not unlike the cutesy reptilian depiction that adorned the many storybooks she had read as a child, but a regal creature more fitting at the side of kings and emperors. The dragon onyx hide of overlapping diamond shaped scales shone like fine cut jewel in the sun, gleaming with fiery radiance as the pair of sinuous wings, each the size of a bus, propelled it higher into the sky like a missile.

"Did he…" Elizabeth stammered, "d-did he j-just…turn into a…d-dragon?!"

"He does that sometime," Galadriel gave her easy answer, as if seeing a man turn into a dragon was a norm in this place. Come to think of it, it probably is.

"Come along," Galadriel waved for the pair to follow as she glided toward the stair behind the wall. "Let's us find Gandalf and tell him that the threat has been pacified. Then we shall contact the Master and tell him of your where about." She stopped in front of the elf in burgundy armor. "Keep watch here Elrond; I want you in charge of the garrison in case the doppelgänger return."

"Of course my friend," he nodded then gave her a halfhearted grimace. "Celebrain won't be happy though."

"I shall explain your absence to her myself," she smiled and gracefully descended the stair, every elf in sight bowing deeply to her passing. Sparing one last glance at Anomander Rake, the dragon now hovering above the gunship remains and bathing it in black, smoky fire, Eleanor grabbed the flabbergasted Elizabeth by the arm and guided the dazed brunette slowly down the steps.

"He just…dragon…" Elizabeth mumbled, her mind still reeling from the fantastical.

"Yeah, I know, now watched your step," Eleanor held Elizabeth firmly as they slowly descend, making sure that the brunette doesn't trip and threw them both down the stairs. Well, a ride on Shadowfax will clear her head quick enough.

It wasn't until late afternoon when Olorin finally informed them that Mr. Master had been made aware of their location and would be arriving, local time, the following morning. Eleanor should feel relieved, knowing that salvation was enroute. Soon she and Elizabeth will be safe while the Eight hunt down Columbia and mother, to finally rid them of this dark, haunting past that refuses to die.

She should be happy. Instead, all she felt was a stomach twisting dread. The glass of elven wine lay untouched on the table before her, and the sight of delectable creamy pastries made her gagged. Beside her Elizabeth sat brooding, no doubt feeling the same trepidation.

Were they a pessimist for assuming the worse? For not trusting the most obvious good portent and instead waited for something to go wrong? Eleanor wanted to believe that she was being realistic but after everything they've been through, it felt almost dangerous to hope for anything good to happen.

Their fear was vindicated when Olorin burst into their waiting room inside the palace, the same urgency from the morning prevalent on his face.

"Come with me," he said raptly, "something had happened."

"Of course it did," Eleanor grumbled lowly, but strangely enough the clawing fear that had been plaguing her faded to a numbness that can only be achieved when one's future became clear, when you stop worrying and actually do something about the problem before you.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked as they strode down the wide corridor.

"One of those flying contraption returned," Gandalf said.

"Just one?"

"Yes. It hovered above the palace for a few minutes before dropping something out of the sky and then flew away."

"A bomb?" Eleanor piped up.

"No, a crate addressed to the both of you."

Trading each other looks of alarm, Eleanor and Elizabeth quickened their pace until they overtook Olorin and rushed down the hall, emerging moments later on to the palace square. A ring of palace guard had surrounded the package, a simple wooden crate with a white parachute draped over it. Pushing their way through the tight, clanging rank of soliders, Eleanor and Elizabeth stepped onto the empty space around the box. Galadriel, Rake, Elrond and that prissy blonde elf from before were there, standing at a safe distant.

"Stay back," Elizabeth waved them away, "there could be explosive in there."

"I don't think so," Eleanor walked over to the crate. "If they had wanted to bomb this place, they would've done so already."

There was a folded paper tied to the crate, Eleanor pulled it free and flipped it open.

'To Elizabeth & Eleanor' was written on the parchment, the cursive handwriting deceptively friendly and somewhat alluring. Throwing away the card, Eleanor opened the crate and dug through the pile of hay inside until her hand grazed something hard. Grabbing the smooth surface, Eleanor pulled out a…PDA? It looked similar to the minicomputer from Mars, but leaner and wider.

"What the hell?" Turning to the baffled Elizabeth at her side, Eleanor pressed the button at the bottom of the monitor, the PDA lit up to display a singular icon on an otherwise empty screen. Tapping it with her finger, everything went black for a moment before Columbia dumbfounded face suddenly popped up to dominate the whole screen. Eleanor almost dropped the PDA in fright.

"Is this thing on?" Columbia spoke, face scrunched in confusion. "I'm not sure if it's on or not."

"It is," her mother assured the doppelgänger.

"Okay then…so I just talk?"

"That's what the instruction says."

It took a moment for Eleanor to realize that she was watching a recording, not a live transmission. The scene stuttered as Columbia placed the device on a stand before stepping back until she stood at the center of the screen.

"Hello again, Elizabeth, Eleanor," Columbia began primly, hands folded in front of her skirt. "It's look like you managed to escape again. I must say I'm very impressed by your tenacity."

She paused for a moment, and it was during this brief soundless interlude that Eleanor heard a noise in the background. A heavy, labored breathing of someone in pain.

"But you see," Columbia's grin was evil, "I was expecting this, so I've prepare a little surprise for you."

She spun the device swiftly in another direction, the sudden motion blurring the focus but Eleanor can vaguely make out a smudgy silhouette of a seated human shape.

"Recognize him?"

Eleanor and Elizabeth could only gasped in horror when the image cleared to reveal Booker DeWitt, the False Shepard that had sacrificed his life to free the Lamb of Columbia from bondage and brought an end to the nightmare that was Comstock and his demented city. The Pinkerton was tied to a dirty wooden chair, his face a bloody mess of bruises.

"Who are you?" Booker panted between ragged breath. "What's going on? What do you people want?"

Daisy, creeping out of the darkness behind Booker, gave the answer by punching his face with a brass knuckle. Blood and teeth flew from Booker's mouth as his head jerk limply before lolling to a stop, his consciousness moments away from surrendering to the pain.

"Now, now Mr. DeWitt, remember your manners, speak only when you are spoken to," Columbia came to stand beside him, the man flinching as she ran a gentle finger down his battered face. "Long story short Elizabeth, after your baptism of the original Booker, a universe sprang up where dear Mr. DeWitt never sold his daughter to wipe away his debt, and they lived happily ever after. Until I came along that is."

A sharp cry sounded then, the bawling of an infant. Eleanor felt ice rushes down her spine as Columbia smiled and walked away from the startled Booker, lucidity returning in a rush of panic.

"Oh, hush now my dear, everything is going to be alright," Columbia reappeared with a bundle cradled in her arms, a petite pair of grabbing hands rising from the cotton blanket.

"Anna!" Booker roared and fought against his binding. "I'll kill you, you fucking bitch! I'll kill everyone last one of you! Let her go! Let my daughter go!"

Columbia handed baby Anna to the waiting Sofia as Daisy drew her Bowie knife and pressed its sharpened tip on Booker's snarling face, carving open his ruined visage as his agonizing cry melded with Anna's own to make a jarring wail of shattered humanity.

"Daisy, that's enough dear," Columbia said calmly when Booker stopped screaming, the only indication that he was alive after such a savage ministration was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Daisy cleaned her knife with a piece of rag before throwing the soak cloth over Booker's ravaged face.

"Such a sweet child," Eleanor hands trembled as Sofia spoke, not from fear but anger the like she had never felt before. "Perhaps it is providence that a new candidate for the utopian project had fallen into my arms, I'm sure she would be a resounding success unlike the previous failure."

"Now Sofia, we haven't decided on anything yet," Columbia turned to look directly at the device. "But it is a possibility that will come to pass if your daughter and my sister continue to be difficult. Booker and little Anna are alive, and if you want them to remain that way, then go to the place where my gunship crashed, there is a Tear waiting and I'm sure you'll know what to do. I hope to see you very soon."

Eleanor let out a jagged scream as the recording came to an end, throwing the PDA on the ground where it shattered into a hundred pieces. Beside her Elizabeth was on her knees, weeping openly.

"It's all my fault," Elizabeth sobbed as Eleanor wrapped her up into a tight embrace. "It's all my fault."

"We'll get them out," Eleanor hissed through gritted teeth, her safety and the Master be damned, she'll never leave an innocent child in the hands of her mother. Hell and high water, she'll get Booker and his daughter out, even if it means facing the reaper himself.

"It's a trap, don't be a fool," Eleanor head snapped toward the blonde elf, his bearing devoid of sympathy.

"I don't care," Eleanor spat back.

"Thranduil is correct," Rake now said. "You will doom yourself and those you seek to help."

"At the very least wait until the Master arrive," Elrond added. "There is no use in throwing your lives away in an unwinnable danger."

"I don't care!" Eleanor shrieked, but the gathered elves, wizard and dragon-man didn't even flinch.

"If that is your wish," Galadriel spoke up, her voice taking a more soothing timbre. "Then we will not stop you. We'll let the Master know of your intention when he arrives."

Eleanor and Elizabeth only gave the elf woman a weak nod when Olorin stepped up to them and offered a hand. Sniffing, Eleanor took it and heaved herself and Elizabeth upward.

"Those are not proper attires," he turned away and nudges his head for them to follow, his words heavy with resignation. "Come along, I'll get you properly outfitted."

By the time Eleanor and Elizabeth had changed from a single piece dress to a black legging and clean white shirt with a leather vest on top, the sun had already set, darkness blanketed the world as the pair strode beyond the wall and toward the crash site. They moved quickly, almost breaking into a run as they headed toward the Tear, shinning like a silver beacon in the night.

Or a tombstone.

Banishing those thought, Eleanor entered the charcoal clearing, dusty remains of grass crunching beneath her boot. The destruction brought upon the Founders was absolute, nothing but charred bodies frozen in twisted torment remained, their shapes almost indistinguishable from the mechanical carcasses around them. Eleanor thought of scavenging a gun but quickly discarded the idea, knowing that the chance of finding anything useful in this wreckage was next to none.

Stopping before the Tear, Eleanor gulped loudly knowing that there's probably an army waiting for them on the other side. But they can't allow Booker and Anna to suffer, they had to help them. It's what Delta would've done.

"Are you sure about this?" Still, Eleanor had to ask the obvious question.

"I am," Elizabeth nodded resolutely before turning to Eleanor. "Listen Eleanor…this isn't your fight. This is between me and Columbia now, she made this more personal by throwing Booker and Anna into the mix. You can wait here for Mr. Master if you want."

"You're an idiot if you think I'm going to let you go alone," Eleanor said sharply. "I'm not leaving anybody in the hands of my mother, and I'm not letting you face her alone either."

"Thank you Eleanor," Elizabeth turned back to the Tear and heaved a heavy sigh. "Guess there's no point in delaying, is there?"

"You're right," Eleanor steeled herself, "shall we?"

"Let's."

Without another word, Eleanor and Elizabeth inhaled deeply like one would before leaping into the sea and, side by side, stepped through the Tear.


	22. The Fallen Lambs

Elizabeth had expected a welcoming party of Founders and snarling splicers to descend on her and Eleanor the moment they stepped through the Tear. Instead, they were greeted by stacks of discarded crates, smelly maritime produces and skeletal shrubby arrayed at haphazard interval, a jarring contrast to the elf's pristine homeland they just came. Waving the Tear shut, absolute darkness claiming the world, Elizabeth and Eleanor darted toward a metal wagon and pressed their back flat against it, the moon's weak light shrouded their passing.

"See anything?" Eleanor asked as they peeked above the rim.

"It's pretty dark," Elizabeth squinted her eyes, adjusting to the gloom.

"Wait," Eleanor pushed herself up and leaned over the wagon's rail, "there's a warehouse up ahead."

"I see it," nodding, Elizabeth can make out a dim shape looming a couple of hundred yards away from them, the blocky frame of a large building was unmistakable.

"Where is everybody?" Eleanor slid back down beside Elizabeth. "Shouldn't there be guards everywhere?"

"Probably waiting inside," Elizabeth frowned.

"Guess we're not taking the front door then," Eleanor began moving toward a black shape to the left, her footfalls a muted shuffle as she groped her way through the dark, Elizabeth close on her heel. Half way there a loud bonk shattered the nocturnal silence, the volume amplified by the noiseless atmosphere.

"Ugh! Damn it!" Eleanor hissed under her breath and visibly hopped toward their new cover. It wasn't until Elizabeth was crouching beside Eleanor that she realized they were ducking beneath…a minecart? The composition was identical to the subterranean transportation, but the contents inside smelled really fishy, literally.

"You alright?" Elizabeth can vaguely see Eleanor rubbing her toe.

"Yeah," Eleanor grunted. "Who the hell leave a piece of metal lying around like that?"

"It's a rail," Elizabeth gave the place a quick sweep and sure enough the moon silvery light glinted off the dirty network of crisscrossing rails. "This must be a silo or a depot of some sort."

"Good to know," Eleanor was about to move again when she froze mid motion before ducking swiftly behind the cart.

"What is it?" Elizabeth voice was the barest whisper as she quietly edges her head over the side of the cart. A bright beam of light cut through the night, swaying left and right in quick sweeping motion, indistinguishable mumbles rippled from the two figures walking with clear careful gait toward them, the Founder blue of their uniform obvious in the dim illumination.

"What do we do?" Eleanor asked, to which Elizabeth respond by pressing a shushing finger to her own lips.

Looking around, Elizabeth saw a dull gray object lying next to her feet. Gingerly reaching for it, Elizabeth's hand slowly coiled around the brittle handle of a spade, short, not longer than her arm, but heavy. Gripping it tight, Elizabeth turned to Eleanor, who acknowledged her intent with a brisk nod. As quietly as she could, Elizabeth slipped around the cart, the spade held at the ready while Eleanor grabbed a fist size rock and poked her head above the cart, arm reeled back for a throw. Moving carefully, the memory of her time sneaking around in Rapture coursing through her muscles, Elizabeth silently stalked closer to the unsuspecting Founders, her boots rustling softly like a gentle whisper of the wind as she positioned herself behind them.

Faintly, Elizabeth saw the rock Eleanor had picked up arching through the air and landing with a loud metallic clang amongst the rail somewhere to the Founders right, the pair swinging their flashlight in that direction.

"Who's there?!" The man demanded as Elizabeth got up from her crouch, raised the spade above her head and swung the flat surface down on the back of his skull. He gave a choking grunt and crumbled to the ground, the ringing of metal reverberated heavy in the air.

"Oi!" His companion gave a startled cry when Eleanor tackled him to the ground, his head slamming into one to protruding rail and went still.

"Is he…?" Eleanor gulped loudly as Elizabeth bend down and placed two fingers on his neck.

"He's alive," Elizabeth reassured Eleanor as she began rummaging through his belt and pockets, relieving him of a Mauser pistol and a few stubby magazines. Eleanor searched the man Elizabeth had knocked out and took a loaded revolver.

"Let's go before more of his friends shows up," Eleanor kept her head low as she quietly jogged away, Elizabeth following like a shadow but gave a quick, hesitant look back.

"Maybe we should take his flashlight," Elizabeth began.

"No, the light will give us away," Eleanor said firmly as they snaked through the maze of unmoving carts.

"It'll be nice to see…"

"I can always do this," Eleanor's hand lit up, bathing everything in glaring orange.

"Okay, okay! Put it out!" Darkness quickly returned and Elizabeth let out a cross huff. "You didn't have to do that!"

"I thought it would be more vivid to show you," even in the dark, Elizabeth knew that Eleanor was smirking.

"Good thing we wouldn't be needing it, look," Elizabeth pointed at the derelict wharf bathed in soft murky light shining from waning lampposts. Founders, guerrillas and the occasional jittery splicers patrolled the piers and paths along the calm shore. The many branching rails seeming to be converging on a large, but closed entrance. And snuggled next to the towering gateway was a small side door. Weak light shone from the dirty windows, but Elizabeth had no idea what could be waiting for them inside. Furthermore, the patrols were frequenting the area more time than she was comfortable with.

"What now?" Eleanor whispered beside her.

"We get inside," Elizabeth was about to move when Eleanor grabbed her arm.

"What if the door's lock?" Eleanor asked with a hint of unease.

"You can break it down," Elizabeth said matter-of-factually, the directness stunning Eleanor somewhat.

"Yeah, but it'll be loud. And how do we know there isn't an army waiting for us inside? Something's wrong here Elizabeth, they know we're coming but this place is close to empty. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we have much of a choice now, do we?"

"Maybe we can find another way inside, a trapdoor to the basement or something."

"We don't have time Eleanor, now come on."

"But we're walking straight through a front door!"

"No we're not, it's a side door."

"Same difference!"

Elizabeth was about to continue arguing when the cracking of boots drew closer. Hands darting out to clamp over Eleanor's mouth, Elizabeth watched as two Vox strode into view. Eleanor mumbled some less than polite words in protest, but quickly falls silent when the pair came to stand beside the side door, not thirty paces away from where they hid behind a rusty minecart.

Breathing slowly, Elizabeth waited as the Vox began sharing cigarettes, lit the white nicotine rolls, and blew long, bitter plumes as they jovially chat with each other. Too far away to hear what they were saying, Elizabeth simply remained still, her hands pressed firmly on Eleanor irritated lips.

After a few minutes, the Vox appeared ready to move on. One of them began patting down his own vest, let out a very audible groan and dashed into the door behind him. Elizabeth traded surprised glance with Eleanor. So the door wasn't lock. She didn't know whether to feel lucky or be suspicious of the lax of security. The Vox reappeared a few moments later, brandishing a new pack of cigarette triumphantly and strode off with his friend, forgetting completely to lock the entrance behind him.

"That's our queue," Elizabeth released Eleanor and prepared to move.

"Yeah," Eleanor spat a couple of time, "lead the way."

Nodding, Elizabeth took a deep breath and bolted for the door, Eleanor following close behind. Gravely ground smoothening to a flat paved way, Elizabeth cringed when her boots made sharp clicking tune across the cemented path. Quickening her pace, and almost tripping for the effort, Elizabeth grabbed the rounded doorknob and pushed the door open. Louder than she would have like, Elizabeth and Eleanor burst into the faintly lit, and quite cramp, reception room with a desk and rows of cabinet squeezed into one corner.

Swiftly but quietly, Eleanor eased the door shut just as two Founders strode pass the door, oblivious to their presence.

"That was close," Eleanor heaved a sigh as she scanned to room. "The room's deserted."

"Let's just hope the rest of the building is as well," Elizabeth moved to stand beside the door adjacent to the entrance, pressing her ears to the aging wooden frame. "It sounds pretty quiet though."

"Scoot over," Elizabeth step aside as Eleanor grabbed the door handle and slowly pulled it open, iron and timber groaning uncooperatively. Poking her head outside, Eleanor gazed down the corridor before throwing the door open in its entirety.

"No one's around," she waved Elizabeth over, "watch your step though, the building look like it's been left to rot."

Eleanor was right, despite the rather unassuming exterior the warehouse was in a state of total disrepair. Debris of fallen timbers, loose pieces of bricks and flakes of decayed plasters carpeted the empty corridor. On one side of the hallway stood a big entrance boarded up with sturdy looking planks, while down the other was a single door dangling from the hinges.

"Stay close," Eleanor whispered as she eased opened the damaged door. Slipping through the narrow crevice, Elizabeth found herself inside a large open area lit by faint orange lamps dangling from the tall ceiling, black stained benches stood in neat rows like workstation at a factory, stretching from one end of the room to the other. The place stank of decomposition, old and musty, like a butcher shop that had long since exhausted the resource to conduct its business.

"Oh my God," Eleanor grabbed her arm, shaking it quickly and pointing upward, "Elizabeth look."

Following Eleanor's stabbing finger, Elizabeth hands shot up to cover the gasp escaping her mouth when she saw the gargantuan carcass hanging above them, held in place by rusty jaw like suspenders. Although most of its muscles and skin had since rotted away, Elizabeth could tell that the putrid shape was a whale of some sort.

"Where in the hell did Columbia drag us to?" Elizabeth muttered under her breath as they snuck between the chest high workbenches.

"Hopefully not another Mars," Eleanor grimaced at the emaciated corpse. "That whale looks weird too, it's bigger than anything I've ever seen. And last time I check whales only have two flippers, not six."

"Are you sure it's not some new undiscovered species?"

"Definitely, I grew up in Rapture, remember? And this place looks like one of those old timey whaling stations. You know? The place where they chopped up the whales for meat and oil? I mean, look at the cleavers and the barrels."

"That would explain the scent the lamps are giving off," Elizabeth knew the place smelled rather familiar, many places in Columbia used whale oil for lamps and other amenities.

"I'm still not sure about…"

"Wait," Elizabeth held up her hand, stopping Eleanor mid-sentence.

"What is it?" Eleanor crouched down beside Elizabeth when a noise ruptured the heavy silence. A low, barely audible moan that could easily be mistaken for groaning planks and furniture. But Elizabeth knew it to be the undeniable croak of someone in pain.

"This way," Elizabeth followed the sound until she reached a nondescript door. Leaning against the frame, the noise took a more discernable timbre, muffled, but very clearly the unrestrained howl of a man in unspeakable agony.

Booker.

Turning the knob slowly, the rusty hinges shrieking in protest and the aging woods crackling as it scraped across the floor, Elizabeth eased the door opened and slipped inside to find a set of stair leading down into a dim attic. Descending swiftly, the steps creaking minutely to her passing, Elizabeth landed on an uneven floor of broken planks and earth, Eleanor joined her a moment later and almost slipped on a patch of wet dirt but Elizabeth quickly steady her.

"Thanks," Eleanor starred down the narrow corridor, nose twitching as she sniffed the air, head shaking ruefully, "it stinks like days old blood down here."

"Booker…" Elizabeth breath softly and strode down the passageway, pistol tight in her grip. Eleanor was catching up to her when a jagged scream shattered the silence.

"Damn, he's quite a screamer," a man, one of the torturer, made his upbeat observation between Booker's agonizing cry.

"Wanna take a break?" Asked another voice.

"He still got another kneecap, ain't he? Let's just finish that off before we grab a bite."

"Okey dokey," a sharp mechanical squeal of what Elizabeth knew was the whirling of motorized drill pierced the air, drowning out Booker begging plea as his screams return. Elizabeth almost burst into the room then, but Eleanor held her back.

"We got to…!" Elizabeth gritted her teeth but Eleanor placed a palm over her mouth.

"We have to wait," Eleanor hissed. "If you go in now they can use Booker and Anna as a hostage while calling for help. I know this is hard, but we got to wait until they're finished."

Elizabeth shook Eleanor off and covered her ears, doing everything humanely possible to muffle Booker's cries. Even then, the broken howl of her father seeped through the clenched fingers; tears of frustration welled and threatened to pour down her cheeks. It felt like hours before the whining of machinery finally stopped.

"Oh shit, he passed out," one of the man laughed and Elizabeth felt the grip on her pistol tightened, anger the likes she had never felt igniting her veins.

"Thought he was going to be a lot tougher," another mused as footsteps drew nearer to the door, "draped something over his ugly mug, I'm hungry."

It wasn't a second later that the door swung open, the two torturers didn't have time to react when Elizabeth and Eleanor pounced them. The startled man tried to grab her but Elizabeth swung the pistol upward, the iron hard butt cracking savagely against his skull. The Founder was tilting when she tackled him to the ground and began pistol whipping him across the face until teeth began flying, putting all her anger behind every blow.

"Elizabeth stop!" Eleanor grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off the man, the bloody miasma that had flushed her vision red receding. Hands trembling, she looked first at the bloody pistol in her hand then to the shallowly breathing body sprawled before her, his face an unrecognizable pulp.

"I…I…" the gun slipped from Elizabeth's hand, "oh God, what have I done?"

"Just…calm down and focus for now, alright?" Eleanor looked somewhat shaken as she guided Elizabeth away from the battered Founder, his companion lying unconscious nearby.

"You take care of Booker, I'll get Anna," Eleanor quickly strode toward a nearby table while Elizabeth approached the bound False Shepard.

"Oh Booker…" Elizabeth went down to one knee and carefully removed the darkened cloth binding his wrists. "I'm here Booker, you're going to be okay, little Anna too, I'm gonna get you both out of here."

Booker didn't respond to her soothing words, and in the gloom she couldn't see whether his chest was moving or not.

"No, no, no…Booker…" Elizabeth's hands trembled as she reached for the dirty sack covering his head, her mouth quivering a silent prayer. Grabbing the rough, blood drenched fabric, Elizabeth slowly pulled the sack off Booker's face, and squealed when what greeted her wasn't the ghastly, ruined visage of her father but a mass of churning, stuttering static, a jumble of contorted, blinking images that refused to take true corporeality.

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor rushed to her side with a bundle cradled carelessly in her arms and held it out for her to see. Where the weeping Anna should be, were crawling white static just like Booker's head.

"Temper, temper, how unsightly of you," Elizabeth and Eleanor jumped with a yelp, spinning around to see Columbia kneeling beside the two fallen torturer, the doppelgänger tracing a dainty finger across the bleeding, crooked face of the man she attacked. "You did quite a number on this one."

Not waiting for the woman in black to make her move, Eleanor raised her pistol and pulled the trigger, only to find a swirling sphere of Tear like static enveloping the weapon. Shrieking, Eleanor dropped the revolver as corroding rust began eating away the metal until nothing but orange dust remained. Elizabeth was dashing for her discarded sidearm when Columbia rose to her feet, gave a tiny flick of her hand and the same smoky white sphere appeared on the pistol. Elizabeth can only watch as the weapon disintegrated before her eyes.

"Seems you want to do this the hard way," Columbia snapped her fingers and six Tears blinked into existence, the shimmering oval gateway to space and time surrounding Elizabeth and Eleanor. Before Eleanor can even ignite her plasmid, five Big Sisters darted out of a Tear to their right, blindsiding then dogpiling her.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth was turning to help Eleanor when sharp pain exploded across her back, the impact knocking the wind out of her lungs as she went to her knees, body folding over. Before she could get her bearing, a boot struck her hard in the side, there was a wet snap as she was launched into the air. Landing hard on her shoulder, Elizabeth rolled across the floor until her teary gaze was staring up at the ceiling.

"Elizabeth!" Coughing blood, Elizabeth groggily lurched on to her side and crawled toward the voice calling her name when a brilliant flash of fire immolated the Big Sisters, their shrieking bodies hurtling through the air. Elizabeth slowly pushed herself on to her knees, fiery pain lancing across her side as Eleanor came to stand above her, Incinerate and Winter Blast blazing on her outstretched palms, desperately warding off the closing Vox and Founders.

"Stay back!" Eleanor snarled like a cornered tiger, so fixated on the attackers that she never saw Columbia and the large syringe until the needle plunged into her neck. Screaming, Eleanor swathed her dimming hand at the doppelgänger who easily dodged out of the way, the effect of the anesthetic instantaneous. In a matter of seconds, Eleanor was mumbling incoherently as her knees buckled, dazed eyes rolling drunkenly before falling face first to the floor.

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth was reaching for Eleanor when the Founders grabbed her, twisting her arms behind her back until it felt like her shoulders were about to pop out of its sockets. "Let me go!"

"Oh, do be quiet dear," Columbia strolled leisurely toward her, a new, brimming syringe in hand. "Stay still, wouldn't want to pierce a jugular now, would we?"

Elizabeth bit back a scream as Columbia, less than gently, pushed the needle into her throat, the anesthetic solution coursed sluggishly through her vein like liquid fire. The effect was immediate. Her body sagged heavily, eyelids drooping, the world becoming nothing but a drunken blur. She barely felt her head bouncing off the floor when the Founders let her go.

"Sweet dream Elizabeth," Columbia crooned sweetly when darkness finally claimed her, "when you wake up, you'll wish for your worst nightmare…" 

* * *

The skull splitting headache was the first sensation to return, the jagged pounding sending rush of nausea across her body. Moaning, Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open sluggishly, her vision swam and pulsated. Head lolling drunkenly, it took Elizabeth a moment to realize that her body was propped vertically on a chair. She tried to move but found her arms and legs fastened by thick length of cloth. Panicking, the situation eliciting memory of her captivity under Atlas, Elizabeth began squirming, fearful lucidity banishing the last of the anesthetic murky residue until the world finally resume its correct corporeality. She was inside a pristine white room, lit bright by long rows of neon bulbs above her head, a hint of ammonia and medical alcohol tickled her nose.

Standing in front of Elizabeth, back turned to her, was Sofia Lamb, busying herself with a wheeled metallic table not five paces away from her. And standing in one corner, looking mightily impatient, was Daisy Fitzroy. Elizabeth flinched when the Vox turned to face her, a cruel smile carving up her lips.

"About damn time you wake up," Daisy stomped forward to stand next to Sofia.

"The anesthetic was supposed to last for four hours, dear Daisy. It has only been two," Sofia said calmly. "Be patient, she's not going anywhere."

Daisy mumbled some guttural sounding words but didn't argue with Sofia, choosing instead to gaze at the table that had occupied the doctor's attention, the content on the tabletop seems to mollify the Vox.

"Where's Eleanor?" Elizabeth voice was a tired rasp, her throat felt like sandpaper. "What have you done to her?"

"She is no longer any of your concern," Sofia spun primly to face her, the doctor was wearing a white medical coat over a long beige skirt and a simple looking brown shirt. Behind her, laid in neat rows were surgical instruments, scalpels, pliers and clamps of various shapes and sizes, sterilized and clean. Daisy seems to revel at the sight of Elizabeth paling face as she squirmed fruitlessly against the bonds, knowing full well what the doctor was planning to do with those gleaming tools.

"Fear," Sofia said coolly, void of any discernible emotion as she studied Elizabeth, "a correct, if not a natural impulse given your current predicament."

"What do you want from me?" Elizabeth mustered her courage and spoke, whatever comes she would not face it like a frightened little girl. She had faced Atlas absent fear before, she will do so again with Sofia.

"Your cooperation," Sofia said simply, lacking the grandiose and drama that was prevalent with Atlas. "I shall ask you a series of question, and you shall answer truthfully."

"Like one of your little therapy session Lamb?" Elizabeth gave her snarky reply, feeling a grin teasing her lips. "Just a heads up, I never did like shrinks, always thought they talked too much."

"Defiance," Sofia was unperturbed, "expected, but ill-advised all the same."

She gave Daisy a quick nod and the Vox turned toward the tray of medical apparatus, choosing the tool that she would use. After a moment, Daisy made her pick and Elizabeth eyes widened in surprise. It was the long dagger that Tangmo had given Eleanor, the one with a snarling lion for a crossguard.

"I wonder how my daughter came to possess something like this," Sofia held out her hand and Daisy placed the dagger on to the doctor waiting palm. "A simple looking thing but nigh unbreakable and so sharp that it can cleave a steel pipe in two with ease. The metallic composition doesn't match anything on the periodic table, although it is clear that it was created by some form of metallurgy, the actual method is beyond our understanding."

Sofia handed the dagger back to Daisy.

"Are you familiar with the term Lingchi?" Sofia continued as Daisy walked up to Elizabeth, grabbed her leather vest roughly and, with a smooth downward stroke, cleaved the hard material easily in two. Throwing the torn garments away, Daisy brought the dagger down again, the blade drawing a harsh, jagged line down the middle of her shirt, the incision made wider by the Vox callous, tearing hands. Fighting to keep her body from trembling, Elizabeth glare never left Daisy as she endured the ignominious ministration, the Vox however took great joy in seeing her mask of courage cracked and wavered. When Daisy finally took a step back to admire her handiwork, Elizabeth white shirt was ripped opened to reveal her cleavage, the side of her ample breasts, her stomach and her navel, shameful red began flushing her cheeks.

"I asked you a question, Elizabeth," Sofia repeated herself, seemingly blind to Elizabeth's half naked state.

"I don't care," Elizabeth spat.

"You should," Sofia gave a nod and Daisy approached her again, dagger raised. Expecting the Vox to degrade her further by ripping away the rest of her clothe, Elizabeth could only stare in confusion when the gleaming blade came to rest on her bare shoulder, and with one smooth flick, sliced the flesh open. Elizabeth yelped, more from surprise than pain, her body buckling against the bond, fingers curling into shaking fists, breath coming sharp and ragged.

"Lingchi is a capital punishment practiced by the Chinese," Sofia continued. "A rough translation into the English language would be death by a thousand cuts. Lucky for you, Columbia has been very adamant in keeping you alive, so I will make sure that this exercise doesn't end up fatal. I cannot, however, promise that the nine hundred and ninety nine cut to follow would be pleasant. Now, do we have an understanding?"

Glaring at the blonde psychiatrist Elizabeth slowly nodded, and received the second cut on the side of her left breast for the trouble.

"Gah!" Was all Elizabeth could manage as she thrashed against her binding.

"You will answer me promptly when you are spoken to," Sofia voice never lost its chilly timbre. "Is that understood?"

"Yes!" Elizabeth yelled, flinching as she expected another cut from Daisy. But none came as Sofia began her questioning.

"What is your name?"

"…Elizabeth DeWitt."

Sofia reached into her coat and withdrew a small leather bound book with a pen snuggled between the pages. Flipping it open, she began taking notes for a minute before asking another question:

"What are you?"

"…What?"

"What are you?"

Confounded by the strange question, Elizabeth mouth moved soundlessly for a few moments before hazarding an answer, "…a woman?"

The third cut came at the base of her neck, but this time she forded through the pain, her mouth snapping shut to stifle a whimper. Daisy's eyes narrowed disapprovingly, annoyed by Elizabeth sudden display of fortitude.

"Perhaps I didn't phrase that properly," Sofia jotted down a few notes before returning her attention to Elizabeth. "Are you a lamb or a woman?"

Despite her situation, Elizabeth found herself spluttering a low, haggard laugh. So this was what she wanted, to dehumanize her, to break her down into nothing but an obedient, bleating animal for Columbia. If Sofia thought that flaying her alive would make her submits, the woman have another thing coming.

"I…" Elizabeth flashed a smile at the looming Sofia, "…am…Elizabeth…DeWitt."

The fourth cut came right down her cleavage, the fifth across her stomach, the sixth deep into her right hip. Sofia's question was repeated with minor variation but every time Elizabeth gave her the same firm answer. White hot pain lanced through her body, every flash of the dagger shearing her body into flapping ruin, blood poured freely from her wounds, drenching her torso in slick sheen of hot scarlet.

It wasn't until the twentieth cut when the overwhelming agony began to pull her away from consciousness, tears blurring her vision as her weary eyelids stuttered and lowered. Ice cold water wrenched her back from the encroaching darkness, every cut igniting anew. Gasping and spitting, Elizabeth shuddered from the sudden chill as Daisy nonchalantly cleaned Eleanor's dagger, placed it back down on the table and reached for a black glass jar, popped the lid open and scooped up a handful of white powder before returning to Elizabeth.

"Concentrated acid powder," Sofia began, "some of the brighter splicers concoct it as a weapon against the Big Daddy thick armor. In an inert solid state, it is harmless. But mix it with any form of liquid it can become quite corrosive."

"Go to hell," Elizabeth hissed through gritted teeth. Despite the fear raking every fiber of her being, she will never give these two women the satisfaction of seeing her submit to their torture.

"Such starling defiance, so much like my daughter," Sofia sneered and Elizabeth took it as a compliment. "But like all things, it will be tempered."

Her grin a sickening leer, Daisy free hand latched onto Elizabeth, the fistful of powdered acid reeling back as if the Vox was about to throw a punch.

"Sing for me little songbird," Daisy said and slammed her palm into Elizabeth's blood soaked chest, knocking the wind from her lungs as she smeared the coarse sand like substance over the lacerations. And Elizabeth did sing, her piercing shriek rented the silent room, shattering the air with her baleful howling, the acid searing deep, biting and gnawing muscles, tendons and bones until nothing remained in the world but unending, all-consuming pain. 

* * *

"What are you doing to her?!" Eleanor struggled against the bond around her wrists and ankles. "What are you doing to Elizabeth?! Let me go you bastard!"

"Oh stop fuzzing, you'll hurt yourself," Columbia blew a relaxing stream of smoke from her ruby red lips, the ebon cigarette holder held daintily between two fingers, the doppelgänger unperturbed by Elizabeth broken scream seeping through the white walls.

"You caught us, isn't that enough?!" Tears of frustration rolled down Eleanor's cheek, the sound of Elizabeth tormented cries was like a knife twisting deep into her heart. Gritting her teeth, Eleanor concentrated, searching for the repository of ADAM and found only emptiness. Breath hitching, Eleanor tugged harder against her binding but it held firm, not budging an inch. Something was wrong, she should be able to break free easily, even if her ADAM was spent. Seeing her realization, Columbia gave a gloating smile and approached her, hands placed on her hips.

"Feeling a little weak?" Columbia said smugly.

"What did you do to me?" Eleanor demanded but felt ice rushed up her spine when Elizabeth scream ended abruptly.

"Suchong and Tenenbaum notes on the Little Sisters were very helpful to me and Sofia," Columbia went on. "Using their researches, we were able to come up with a very potent concoction that nullified your enhanced physical attributes and the various plasmids in your system. Basically, you're just an ordinary little girl now! However…" Columbia held the cigarette holder over her hand and gave it a little tap, sending a clump of red hot ash falling on to her knuckle. Screeching from the searing heat, Eleanor twisted against her bond before Columbia wiped the soot away, the red blemish marring her skin was already healing. "We did leave your regenerative abilities intact, you'll need it in the coming days."

"So what are you gonna do, huh?" Eleanor shot back. "Torture me? Is that it?! Do your worse!"

"Feisty aren't we?" Columbia placed the cigarette holder on a nearby table and leaned closer until her nose was almost touching Eleanor's own. Before Eleanor could retort, Columbia hands darted forward and, with great care, began undoing her leather vest.

"What are you doing?!" Eleanor hissed as the vest slid down her shoulders to hang from the crook of her arms.

Columbia leaned back a little, staring at the bound Eleanor, the inquisitive gaze traveling up and down her torso before coming to linger over her chest. The look wasn't lecherous, but Eleanor was quickly becoming uncomfortable from the attention. Then without warning, Columbia's hands shot out and cupped both of Eleanor's breasts, kneading them carefully like they were lumps of dough.

"Let go!" Eleanor shrieked, face flushed red as she squirmed under Columbia unheeding physical intrusion. "Stop it!"

"Hmm, quite average all things considered," Columbia pulled her hands back and Eleanor let out a shuddering breath of relief, "not anywhere near as big as Elizabeth or myself, but it should suffice."

"You twisted bitch," Eleanor spat, "had enough fun yet?"

"Not really, but I'm sure my men would be more than appreciative."

"…What?"

"The soldiers of Columbia and Rapture are a pious and righteous lot," Columbia slithering hands returned, this time going about unbuttoning Eleanor's white shirt, the movement slow and cautious as a mother would handle her sick child, "but I'll be stupid not to realize the frailty of the human spirit. It was because of this that we got banished from Eden in the first place."

"Don't touch me," Eleanor found her voice growing more subdue as Columbia continued to undress her.

"My followers are human after all," Columbia said, "and every human have needs that must be satiate. Many of my fighting men have been without their wives and lovers for quite some time. Hell, I think some of them are so young that I doubt they ever felt the warmth of a woman."

"No…"

"You're not exactly breeding material, but still, you're a young woman with an invitingly slim frame that many find attractive. Oh how the boys will clamor to you like swarm of bees to a fresh blooming flower." Columbia locked eyes with Eleanor then, "you're a virgin aren't you?" Her blush was more than enough to answer the doppelgänger query. "This will be quite an experience then, I heard some of the men can be…overly eager."

"Please…" Eleanor was whimpering now, most of the buttons were undone, leaving her cleavage plainly exposed.

"What was that?" Columbia looked at her innocently, "Please what, Eleanor?"

"Don't…" Eleanor couldn't keep the fear out of her trembling voice; the mere thought of going through what Columbia promised was enough to break her resolve. Pain, that she can endure, but to suffer something deeper than the skin, to be scarred in a way that can never truly heal…the thought was enough to bring her to tear. "Please don't do it."

"Don't what?" Columbia leaned closer, that feigning look of concern was so much like Elizabeth that it made Eleanor sick.

"The men…" Eleanor head hung low, words coming in shivering rasp.

Columbia gave Eleanor a flat, unsympathetic look before snorting, hand rising to pinch her cheek.

"Aww, don't cry," Columbia said playfully and strode away toward a table, "there will be plenty of time for that."

Rummaging through what Eleanor assumed were torture devices, Columbia took her time like a girl on her first trip to a chic clothing store, browsing the latest collections without a care in the world. Minutes passed before the doppelgänger gave a triumphant 'aha!' and spun around to face Eleanor with a hammer twirling in her hand.

"Hey, you said so yourself," Columbia made her slow approach, "you didn't want to pleasure my men, so this is the alternative. Not that I was about to hand you over to those louts anyway, me and Sofia have so much planned for you and Elizabeth after all. But believe me when I say that after we're done, you'll wish you had taken the carnal option."

"Why are you doing this?" Eleanor asked. "You caught us already, none of this is necessary."

"The best torture one can inflict upon another is the exclusion of reason," Columbia smile was cruel. "In the coming days you will beg for answers, but we'll give you none. As a little consolation, I can tell you now that yes, there is a very good reason for your suffering, but for the actual answer, that's between me and your mother."

Eleanor can only watch as Columbia placed the cool hammer face on her index finger.

"You see, I came across a very interesting audio diary back in Rapture," the doppelgänger pressed the flat face teasingly on her nail, Eleanor quivered from the increased pressure. "It was made by a doctor who looked after the newly created Little Sisters. Most of it were observations of their condition and some of his own musing, but I found one piece of information that was quite intriguing. You see, he spoke about a complication when one of the Little Sisters broke her legs and how, due to her accelerated healing metabolism, the bone was set wrongly and they have to break the poor thing's leg several more time before they managed to fix it. So…"

In a blur Columbia raised the hammer and swung it down. There was sickening crunch, then an explosion of hellish pain as Eleanor screamed, body buckling hard against the restraints. Tears and spittle dripping down her chin, Eleanor gave one haggard breath after another as she gazed down at her bleeding, ruined finger, the joints bent grotesquely, jagged white bone pierced through the skin and nail splintered red. But even through the shattered agony, Eleanor could feel the tendons mending, the bones setting, the blood vessel reconnecting, the tattered flesh sewing itself back together until new flaps of muscle were stretched taut over her destroyed finger.

"Well, I guess the good doctor was right," Columbia grabbed the deformed limb between thumb and forefinger, wiggling it this way and that, the minute movement sending torrents of fire across Eleanor's hand.

"Stop!" Eleanor yelled and thrashed as the doppelgänger twisted her finger. "Please! Stop! Yeeargh!"

"Oh, this wouldn't do at all," Columbia hefted up the hammer again. "Here, let me fix that."

"No! Don't!" The doppelgänger brought the hammer down again, tearing the flesh open anew and shattering more bones, sending splatter of blood across Eleanor face.

"No, that still doesn't look quite right," Columbia gave a little scowl before striking Eleanor's finger again.

"Please! No more!" Eleanor begged between jagged shrieking.

"Just one more tap should do it," another wet smack and Eleanor bit down hard on her tongue, silencing her own cry as coppery blood drown her mouth.

"Whew! That was quite a work out," Columbia wiped sheen of sweat from her brow, gave the crimson smeared hammer a few twirls before grimacing at the sight of Eleanor's ravaged finger, now nothing but mismatched pieces of bone held together by bloody strips of flesh. "Oh, I think I made it worst, but medical pursue thrive on trials and error, isn't that right Eleanor?"

Eleanor could only manage to lift her head up, glistening tears distorting the doppelgänger slim figure. After a moment she gave a weak, throaty moan.

"What was that dear?" Columbia leaned closer. "Did you want to say something?"

For her answer, Eleanor inhaled sharply and spat blood at Columbia's face, her lips peeling back into a vicious grin, feeling a sliver of satisfaction as the doppelgänger staggered back, hissing as she wiped scarlet from her eyes.

"You…" Columbia glowered darkly and grabbed Eleanor's neck, the hammer claw pressed hard on her forehead, "you stupid little bitch I was gonna go easy on you, now I'm going to make sure this last." She gave venomous chuckle. "And it's only your first day with us."

The hammer came down, but this time the blow shattered her middle finger, the next destroyed her ring finger, then her thumb, then her pinkie. Eleanor could do nothing but scream as Columbia pounded her hand into a pulping mass of bloody minced meat, every stroke more savage than the last, the pain reaching an impossible zenith. Shuddering, foaming spittle dripping down her mouth, body convulsing to the hammer drumming rhythm, Eleanor's eyes rolled back into her skull as darkness whisked her away, but not before hearing Columbia disappointed sneer.

"Pathetic." 

* * *

"Eleanor?"

The named jolted her awake. Throat raw and dry like sand, Eleanor coughed and willed her weary body to move. Blinking crust of tear from her eyes, she found herself lying on a rough concrete floor. The elven clothes that Olorin had given her had been replaced by a hospital gown that felt more like a thin piece of paper. The room, a cramp, narrow little thing that looked more like a closet, was dimly lit by a single bulb swaying above her head. But the light was enough to reveal the person kneeling beside her.

Columbia.

Croaking weakly, Eleanor backpedaled away until her back crashed against the wall, hands rising feebly to swathe at the doppelgänger, who easily grabbed both her wrists.

"Get away from me!" Eleanor struggled weakly.

"Eleanor it's me! Stop!"

Although the timbre was the same, there was an undeniable warm and care in that voice. Collecting herself, Eleanor gave the woman a second look over and saw that it wasn't Columbia but Elizabeth. Attired like her, the brunette looked pale and weak, messy long brown locks cascading down to frame her haggard face.

"Oh my God, Elizabeth," Eleanor threw her arms around the brunette, who returned the hug firmly.

"Are you okay?" Eleanor pulled away and cupped her hands on Elizabeth's cheeks. "I heard you screaming…"

"So did I," Elizabeth said, worry flashed across her face. Memories returning, Eleanor's head snapped toward her left hand and found it to be completely healed, nothing but a few dry stains of blood remained as she wiggled her fingers.

"…Why?" Eleanor didn't understand. Why would they torture her so badly only to fix her up, good as new?

"It's not fun playing with a broken doll," Elizabeth was hugging herself now, a shiver running down her body. "After they cut me up enough, they gave me a concentrated shot of the healing solution that was used back in Rapture. It fixed up everything, so they can hurt me all over again."

Eleanor could only nod, not daring to ask what Elizabeth went through.

"Can you see any Tear?" Eleanor changed the subject.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "I can't feel or see any anything, it's like there's another siphon active somewhere around here. What about you?"

"They gave me some kind of ADAM inhibitor. All of my strength and plasmids are gone; I can't use any of them."

It was then that Eleanor truly understands the severity of their current predicament. Both her and Elizabeth were powerless, like cats that has been declawed, no longer were they the Daughter of Rapture and the Lamb of Columbia, no, they were just two girls at the complete mercy of their captors. She had never felt so helpless before, even back in Rapture there had always been ways to fight back and defied mother. Now she had nothing but weary arms and legs, frail pieces of meat waiting to be dissected. She wanted to believe that an avenue of escape exists, but in that moment of vulnerability nothing but despair roiled in her mind, drowning all thoughts of hope, leaving only the crushing anguish that reinforced her inescapable fate.

Before long, Eleanor was sobbing, bawling a broken tune as she sank into the nook of her arms and wept.

"Oh Eleanor…" she could feel Elizabeth pulling her into a tight embrace. Weeping like a child, Eleanor snuggled deeper into the hug until she was crying into Elizabeth's bosom, the brunette all the while stroke her back soothingly, whispering words of comfort into her ears. Funny, it was usually her calming Elizabeth down, not that she was complaining now that the roles were reversed. The warmth and security she felt was a foreign yet welcoming thing, pushing away the heavy melancholy so that it hovered at the edge of her mind, out of reach but never out of sight.

"Are we going to die?" Eleanor managed, sniffing as she gazed up at Elizabeth.

"I…I don't know," Elizabeth herself looked about ready to cry, tears welling in the bright sapphire of her eyes. "This is all my fault, I knew it was a trap and I dragged you straight into it. And now Columbia won, she got everything she wanted, and I was the one who handed it to her on a silver platter."

"Don't say that," Eleanor now returned the hug, coiling herself tight around Elizabeth waist. "They want us to break, we can't give them the satisfaction no matter what."

Inhaling deeply, Elizabeth nodded her agreement, "you're right. As long as we're alive, we'll endure, come what may." She sighed then, her cheek tilting down until it was resting on Eleanor's head. "Still, I'm sorry for dragging you into this."

"Hey, I choose to come, remember?" Eleanor tried to smile but found a yawn coming instead, weariness returning like a flash flood that smothered the failing amber that was her wakefulness. Shuffling into a more comfortable position, Eleanor leaned into Elizabeth, while the brunette rested her back against the wall and surrendered to slumber. Eleanor herself drifted off into a deep sleep not long after, no thought stirred within the dark nimbus. It only felt like a few minutes later when the harsh sound of unlocking keys and squealing of scrapping metal sundered the fleeting sanctum of tranquility. 

* * *

Elizabeth's eyes shot opened when the heavy iron door to their cell swung open with a resounding bang.

"Get up!" A harsh voice commanded as a group of female Vox stormed inside.

Elizabeth was pulling Eleanor into a protective embrace when a boot struck the side of her face, sending her crashing to the ground, jaw and cheek burning.

"Elizabeth!" Eleanor cry was brought to a straggle end under the vicious flurry of falling batons, rendering her near unconscious before two Vox hefted her up and half dragged, half carried her out of the cell. They beat Elizabeth too, the wooden cudgel made a savage melody across her back until she was curled into a shaking fetal ball. When the batons ceased their furious descend, she was unceremoniously hefted up and dragged out of the cell, legs trailing limply behind. The dim corridor was a pulsing blur, and it wasn't until she was fastened to a chair, again, that her vision returned. The sight that greeted Elizabeth was of Eleanor suspended before her, wrists bound and arms stretched taut above her head, the girl's bruised face twisted in pain.

Daisy appeared beside her and splashed Eleanor with a bucketful of water, the girl squeaked feebly as her teeth began to chatter from the cold. Off to one side of the room sat Columbia, sipping a steaming cup of tea on an opulent red cushioned chair, a stark contrast to the room minimalistic interior. And stepping out of the doppelgänger's shadow came Sofia Lamb, the little book flipped opened in her hand as she wrote briskly across the page.

"Let's begin where we left off yesterday, shall we?" Sofia came to stand between her and Eleanor, never once did the doctor spared a glance at her daughter. "What are you?"

"Let her go," Elizabeth growled at Sofia, who only then seems to notice Eleanor hanging behind her. Turning briefly to acknowledge her daughter presence, Sofia step aside as Daisy strode toward Elizabeth with a cattle prod in hand, blue white bolts dancing gleefully between the two electrodes.

"No!" Eleanor struggled against her bond as the cattle prod honed closer, Daisy taking her time to savor the unhidden fear cracking Elizabeth visage. But a mere inch before the electrodes reached the naked skin between her neck and collarbone, Daisy halted the advance, gave Elizabeth an evil smirk, then spun on her heel and took wide gait toward a startled Eleanor.

Now it was Elizabeth turn to scream as Daisy stabbed Eleanor with the cattle prod, sending the girl thrashing like a hooked fish across the air.

"Stop it!" Elizabeth plea was drowned out by Eleanor horrid wailing, growing more hoarse with every lunge Daisy threw at her. It wasn't until Sofia walked into view again that Daisy ceased her torture, Eleanor slumping against the binding, her breathing sharp and jagged.

"What are you?" Sofia repeated the question.

"I'm…" Elizabeth sobbed, head hung low, "I'm a…"

"Elizabeth no!" Eleanor mustered what remained of her strength and yelled.

"I'm sorry Eleanor," Elizabeth gave her a resigned smile then turned to face an expectant looking Sofia. "I'm a lamb, a small bleating animal fit only for slaughter. I'm not a woman, I'm just an animal."

Averting her gaze from the defeated looking Eleanor, Elizabeth placed her focus solely on Sofia, the blonde giving her a flat, indiscernible look before glancing at the tea sipping Columbia and said, "I'm not convinced."

"Neither do I," Columbia flaunts disappointment and waved daintily with her free hand. "Continue dear Daisy, at least we now know how much they mean to each other, we can use that for future experiments."

"No!" Elizabeth cried just as Eleanor screech rented the room again, Daisy pressing the cattle prod on the girl's thigh and kept it there.

"Please! I'll do anything you want!" Elizabeth begged as Daisy went about her malicious task, making sure that every part of Eleanor's body received the electrodes searing kiss. "What do you want from me?! Just tell me what you want!"


	23. More Plan, More Exposition

Shit, shit, shit! Why did they have to go and be freaking heroes? Oh that's right, it's because they're freaking heroes! All the Master could do as he strode through an unassuming archway into another reality was rubbed a slow circle across his temples, the knotted migraine refusing to ease its vise. When Gandalf had told him that Elizabeth and Eleanor were safe in Valinor, he had been ready to pop open the champagne, imagine the crushing disappointment when that inflated happiness popped like a balloon when Galadriel told him that the two Bioshock lambs has decided to pursue the doppelgänger Columbia through another Tear, causing him to once again lose track of them. So here he was, in the place where he's a hundred percent sure Elizabeth and Eleanor had ended up after leaving Valmar. And like back in Mercy Fall, the doppelgänger was screwing with his power again, great, that means time wasn't on his side.

"You weren't supposed to do that!" The Master gave a sideway glance over his shoulder toward the dead-end corridor behind him. Lita, clad in a heavy black cloak that draped over her modern warfare ensemble, was giving Tangmo, looking strangely naked without his awesome commissar cap and coat, a red faced chiding, hands on hips to convey her utmost displeasure.

"It was self-defense," Tangmo adjusted his Kevlar vest and, suspiciously, empty webbing.

"You were supposed to follow the lead I gave you," Lita continued.

"And I did."

"You weren't supposed to go pick a fight with the Children of the Light!"

That got the Master attention alright. Spinning on his heels, he shot Tangmo a part quizzical, part angry look, heavy brow furrowed into a bushy crease.

"You did what?!" The Master squawked, his usually low baritone rising a few pitches, making him sound like a startled gull.

"I didn't kill anyone, chill," Tangmo waved him off, "besides, those jackoffs are terrorists anyway, they had it coming."

"That's not true!" Lita stomped the ground testily. "Under Galad leadership, they are a virtuous force of good that stands stalwart against the Dark One minions."

"Virtuous force of good? Do you even listen to yourself woman? They're a bunch of self-righteous assholes that goes around intimidating, torturing and killing people who doesn't believe in their light god. Fucking ISIS, the lots of them."

"How did you get into a scuffle with them in the first place?" The Master now asked.

"I went to Emond's Field, since it's one of the major location in the book and a likely place where Elizabeth and Eleanor could show up."

"Dressed like that?" The Master eyed his AA-12 and Kevlar attire worriedly. Usually he would have prohibited such jarring and unfitting apparel, but finding the two lambs took priority over blending in with the populace of Randland.

"Come to think of it, I should have kept the commissar coat, at least it would've hide some of the guns," Tangmo mused. "Anyway, I dropped by the Winespring Inn and asked around, a real authentic Wheel of Time experience by the way, stopping at inns and stuff. The locals knew jack shit though, and turns out they weren't very receptive of my Liam Neeson impression either. Then Perrin and his wife showed up and things got a little tense, but I managed to extricate myself before any misunderstanding happens. Damn, Faile was such a bitch, but then again every woman in Randland, beside Min, are mega bitch anyway so I guess I shouldn't be surprise."

"And the Whitecloaks shows up…"

"A few clicks outside of Emond's Field, a dozen of them, guess they still think Perrin's a Darkfriend because of his lupine jaundice. Those Templar jihadists surrounded me and start asking me if I was the servant of the Dark One. Naturally, I told them to go fuck their horses. Stupid bastards drew their swords, so I flashbang them and fired a few round into the air before hauling ass north."

"They put a price on your head, look!" Lita pulled a brown wanted poster from her cloak and brandished it for the Master and Tangmo to see. On the dirty parchment was a drawing of the hooded Tangmo, face hidden within the cowl, flaming fireballs, the flashbangs obviously, flying out of his hand, and doing what the Master assumed was the Randy Orton pose. The big red letter beneath reads: Wanted, dead or alive, the Darkfriend Stormcrow.

"Stormcrow?" The Master shot Tangmo a look.

"I sang the chorus from Cain's Offering 'Stormcrow' for dramatic effect," Tangmo grinned, "shit was dope yo."

"You were supposed to be inconspicuous!" Lita huffed. "Now everyone from Tears to Tar Valon are after you, you stupid man-brained woolhead!"

"Yeah, and walking into the throne room of Andor, decked out for a midnight compound raid, squealing and hugging the queen in front of a dozen people, is the textbook definition of inconspicuous."

Lita went rigid as the Master gave her an inquisitive look.

"I was her loyal handmaiden," Lita lifted her chin haughtily, "I was with her through thick and thin, I'm pretty chummy with her."

"See I can never get over that," Tangmo said, "saidar wise, you're more powerful than every character in the Wheel of Time, plus you have access to seven Warrens and have mastered the 40k Eldar path of the seer. Why did you choose to become a goddamn maid?"

"Because I can get close to the main characters without inviting attention to myself and get every little information from them without having to lift a finger," Lita said proudly. "For example, Elayne just told me that in a few months she would be heading to Tar Valon to commemorate the first anniversary of Tarmon Gai'don, where Cadsuane is going unveil a statue of Egwene, in honor of her sacrifice. Oh, and her little twins are so cute!"

"Did the topic of Elizabeth and Eleanor even come up in your little chat?" Tangmo face palmed himself exasperatedly.

"Yes, and they weren't there," Lita said easily.

"You sure?"

"Checked in the Tel'aran'rhiod too, nothing."

"She right, they are not in Randland, or anywhere else for that matter," the Master turned his gaze back to the moderately busy street beyond the alley. "They're here."

"Where is here anyway?" The Master was about to answer Tangmo when Laura and Yuki appeared behind them, strolling at a leisure pace.

"Welcome back," Tangmo nodded while Lita gave a friendly wave. "Nothing?"

"None," Yuki shook her head.

"Don't worry, Master says they're here," Lita offered a smile. "So where did you guys go?"

"Republic City."

"Oh, a fan of Korra and Asami I see?" Tangmo gave his best shit eating grin. "Welp, guess I can't be surprised."

"Fuck you, you fucking prick!" Laura snapped and took menacing steps toward Tangmo but Yuki held her back, the Japanese doing her best to calm the fuming Scotswoman while the chortling Thai just laughed his ass off. Laura was about to unleash her barrage of Scottish tinged curse when Henry and Damien shambled forward, both soaked to the bones and wearing a thousand yard stare.

"Oh my God, are you two alright?" Lita strode up to the newcomers.

"It was the jungle man…" Damien stuttered, looking very uncharacteristically out of sort.

"I was getting flashback from Nam dude," Henry now spoke, equally shaken, "and I never even been there."

"Where in the hell did you two go?" Tangmo inquired. "Vietnam? Laos? Cambodia? My backyard?"

"I don't know," Henry composed himself, "but it was a cold, wet jungle straight out of Platoon and Apocalypse Now man. We were wading through nothing but knee deep mud, the trees were as big as houses, there were lizards and snakes and shit everywhere. And the river man, the river was acid."

"Acid river?" Tangmo irked a brow. "Was it silvery grayish in color?"

"Yeah."

Tangmo turned to look at the Master, "you sent them to the Rain Wild?"

"I did," the Master nodded, "there was an Elderling ruin that went a little wonky, false trail though."

"Should have sent me dude, I know the jungles."

"What in the hell is the Rain Wild man?" Damien broke into the banter.

"Seriously?" Tangmo gave him an incredulous look. "Y'all need Robin Hobb in your life dude, you're really missing out."

It was in that moment that the last pair joined them. Erik and Nikki sauntering up to them at an easy gait, brushing flakes of snow from their netted sniper cloaks.

"Skyrim," Nikki answered before anybody could broached the question.

"How did the people there react to seeing one of the Dragonborn walking around with a gun?" Yuki asked.

"With awe and cheers of course," Erik threw back his hood, smiling as his long golden blonde hair cascaded down his shoulders. "They're just glad it wasn't Laura."

Laura gave an angry huff, arms folded across her chest but didn't say anything, choosing instead to glare at Erik as he went on more demurely, "so…I went to see Paarthurnax and asked him if there was any rift in space and time. He said no and we spent the afternoon reminiscent about the good old days."

"Okay, that's enough chit chat, time to get moving." the Master peered down the road, "they're here, we just got to find them."

"Are you sure?" Damien asked with a healthy dosage of skepticism.

"Of course I am!" The Master declared hotly.

"Where are we anyway?" Laura now chimed in.

"If all of you would stop interrupting, then I can tell you," the Master said impatiently, "we're in Dunwall, ten years after the event of Dishonored."

"Dunwall? Lucky us," Yuki slung the P90 over her shoulder, "come on Nikki, he still owes us a favor."

"Oh yeah, I completely forgot about that," Nikki took her place beside Yuki as they both strode out of the alley. Trading surprised looks, the Master and the rest of the Eight briskly followed the two on to the mildly busy road.

"Who owes you what?" Laura fall into step behind Yuki.

"Corvo," Nikki answered her, "the Master sent us here just after Dishonored was released, we helped him gather some very important information that was vital in recovering Emily and her subsequent rescue after admiral asshole backstabbed him. Swell guy that Corvo, always doing the right thing for Emily."

"Yeah, and he's pretty easy on the eye too, in a rugged sort of way," Yuki added but flinched when she saw Laura narrowed her eyes dangerously, "I'm just saying! He's kinda like a more limber Geralt. You probably know a thing or two about that, right Laura?"

The Englishwoman baulk at that, turning her head away as red crept up her cheeks.

"Isn't there a sequel coming out soon?" Erik spoke up.

"Yeah, and I heard you can play as Emily too," Henry turned to regard the Master, "so are we in the new game?"

"No," the Master said, "this is set five years before the event of Dishonored 2."

"Sweet," Tangmo took this moment to observe their surroundings. Clean Victorian style townhouses loomed on both side of the street, well maintained but for a few hint of dust and grime that comes with every large metropolis. Wagons carrying opulent individuals trotted down the cobbled roads, while others of a more humble status clamored the footpath, going about their days with industrious determination.

"Damn, this place looks like Mary Poppins London when it's not in the shitter," Tangmo said as he nodded politely at a pair of dainty looking women, the two lasses turning away with conspiratorial whispers and giggling, stealing quick glances at him.

"It's been ten years after the first game dude, of course things got better," Nikki spoke up as the road widened and rose in elevation, "Corvo was one hundred percent non-lethal, so Emily turned out to be a benevolent empress. Naturally, Dunwall became a much better place than it was during her mother's reign."

"And with daddy assassin at her side, Emily became a near unstoppable political force," Henry added as they approached the towering iron gate of the Dunwall royal palace.

"Halt!" A serious military looking man marched crisply out of the guardhouse to meet them, hand clasped on the grip of his unsheathed saber. Behind him came six other guards, rifle shouldered at the ready.

"The palace is off limit to all visitors," the officer announced loudly, chest puffed and chin high, looking at the Master and the Eight down his nose. "Turn around now, or you shall be forcibly remove from the premises."

"It just so happens that we know the empress and the Lord Protector," the Master began but the officer cut in harshly.

"This is your last warning sir! Leave this moment or I will be force to use drastic measure!"

"Maxell?" Nikki walked around the Master to come and stand before the fuming officer, a toothy smile plastered across her face. "Little Maxie is that really you?"

"Nikki?" The officer's bearing stuttered before capitulating completely, mouth hanging agape as his head darted between Nikki and Yuki. "Yuki? Is it really you two?!"

"In the flesh!" Yuki threw her arms around the blonde man, giving him a friendly hug. Nikki joining in as both women drew the guardsman into a powerful embrace, much to the collective surprise of his flabbergasted men and the startled Eight.

"It's so good to see you again!" Maxwell bellowed and scooped them off their feet, returning the hug mightily. "But…how is this possible? You two haven't aged a day."

"Oh, you know, feminine secret," Nikki and Yuki traded each other a knowing winks before giggling mischievously.

"Ahem," the Master interceded politely, to which the Russian and Japanese gingerly dislodged themselves from the reddening Maxell, "now that you have reacquainted yourself with my two associates, I reiterate my request to see the empress and the Lord Protector."

"Well, this is highly irregular," Maxell stroked his breaded chin thoughtfully before turning to Nikki and Yuki, "I mean if its only you two, then I can just let you in. But these others…"

"They're my friends Maxie," Yuki pursed her lips and gave the poor guardsman the most lethal puppy pout in the history of the human race. Maxell faltered as if stabbed, but was dealt the killing blow when Nikki added her own equally devastating begging eyes to the mix. Truly, no forces in the multiverse can withstand such a powerful persuasion.

"Pretty please Maxie?" Nikki tilted her head, lips quivering.

"Oh fine! Just stop doing that!" Maxell held up his hands in surrender. "By the Outsider, you two haven't changed one bit."

"Umm…sergeant?" One of Maxell's men spoke up. "Are you sure about this?"

"Return to your post, I shall escort our guests to the empress herself," Maxell waved for the gate to open, "I shall bear full responsibility if something happened."

Saluting, his men stepped aside and threw open the palace gate.

"Follow me before the other squad take notice," Maxell briskly led them through the rather stale looking palace ground, the spartan exterior got more in common with a training camp than that of a home for the head of state. Traversing the spotless paved path and crisscrossing stone stairs that climbed up to the palace proper, every placement of statues, ledges, fences and furniture inviting parkour jumps and leaps, they finally reached the palace entrance after about five minutes, a towering double door of thick dark wood inlaid with iron and silver, the heavy frames opening with surprising ease by a sharply dressed velvet.

"Woah, this place look a lot nicer inside," Damien observed as they strode into the pillared hallway of polished mahogany wood, the gleaming dark surface bathed in warm orange hue shining from the magnificent crystal chandelier hanging high in the unreachable vaulted ceiling above, a rich scarlet carpet muffling the footfall of their boots. As expected, the Master and the Eight rather unorthodox appearance were drawing attention. Servants paused in their task to look at the strangers with a mixture of curiosity and fear, while attending magistrates and visiting nobility eyed them with open suspicion.

"This way," Maxell waved them toward a small door behind Emily's throne and into a narrow, almost dungeon like corridor of cold stone, blazing torches inside iron scones, set so high into the wall that the flame painted the ceiling black, lighted their path. After a few minutes they came to an unremarkable door, so modest in design that it looked like a servant entrance, animated but muffled conversation can be heard on the other side. Stopping before the door, Maxell straightened himself, puffed out his chest and knocked gently. Silence muted the room beyond for a couple of seconds before a gruff voice said sternly.

"I said we were not to be disturbed."

"Holy shit, is that Corvo?" Henry spoke up. "He can talk?"

"Why couldn't he?" Maxell raised an eyebrow at the New Yorker.

"I…just never heard him talk that's all," Henry laughed nervously before leaning toward Damien and said quietly, "I though he's a mute protagonist?"

"Apparently he talks in the sequel," Damien shrugged.

"Lord Protector, I apologize for interrupting you and the empress," Maxell began, "but I believe you will want to meet these visitors. They are old acquaintances of ours, and I believe they are here to help us with our current predicament."

More silence answered him before a commanding female voice said:

"Send them in."

Sagging with relief, Maxell bowed at the door before easing it open for the Master and the Eight, ushering them inside.

"Thanks Maxie," Nikki gave the guardsman a quick peck on the cheek, leaving him flustered and dazed as he strode unevenly back the way they came.

"How friendly of you," Yuki observed snidely.

"Hey, at least I choose a straight target," Nikki grinned evilly in response.

"Oh come on, not you too," Yuki rolled her eyes as they strode into a medium size study, well furnished with tapestries on the wall and porcelain vases brimming with flowers on marble stands beside open windows, a granite fireplace blazed warmly at the end of the room, expensive Persian looking rugs carpeted their feet while a large desk dominated the center.

"You know, I don't understand why the two of you don't just come out already," Nikki continued much to Yuki very visible dismay, "I mean, I might be Russian but you have my one hundred percent support on this."

"That's because their nothing to come out too, we're just friends," Laura came to stand beside Yuki, the way both of them seem to lean into each other for support contradicted the Brits statement, "so mind your own bloody business."

"Okay, okay, sorry, Jeez," Nikki shook her head and approached the room's two occupants.

"It can't be…" A middle-aged man of a lean, but powerful physique glided around the messy desk to stand before the Master and the Eight, his movement lithe like a swift flowing river, stony chiseled face betraying the rare emotion that was surprise.

"It is Corvo," Nikki step forward and extended her hand, "been a while hasn't it?"

"Indeed," Corvo took her hand, shook it firmly before repeating the gesture with Yuki, "you two haven't aged at all."

"We're getting that a lot," Yuki smiled and gave the assassin a deep, very Japanese bow, "it's really good to see you again Corvo."

"The pleasure's all mine," Corvo gave a tiny smile when a young woman strode up to stand beside him. Her visage was sharp and hard, but not in an unpretty way. Instead of a girlish youthfulness there was a deep maturity that made her more alluring despite only being on the cusp of womanhood.

"Nikki? Yuki?" The woman stated calmly but her formal veneer was quickly yielding to gushing giddiness.

"Hey little Em!" Yuki beamed brightly. "Oh I'm so sorry, you're not little anymore."

"It's so good to see you both again!" Without warning, Empress Emily Kaldwin leapt at the two, throwing her arms around both of them, pulling the Russian and Japanese into a crushing hug. "Where have you two been? And how after all these years you still look so young and spritely?"

"Wait? You're Emily?!" Erik blurted suddenly.

"That should have been obvious the moment we stepped into the room," Tangmo looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Yeah, I know but…I didn't expect her to be this hot."

Erik seems to realize too late what he'd just said, bashful red flushed across his face, turning his complexion into that of a ripe tomato. The Master and the Eight could only gawked in wordless surprise, the last person they expected to say something so crass was the usually polite and considerate Swede. Corvo and Emily however, was uncomprehending of the comment.

"Well, it is a little stuffy in here," Emily said, "but I don't think the temperature bother me that much though."

"Oh Emily, that's not what he said at all," Nikki began innocently, but the Master, and everyone else for that matter, saw through the façade, "he just said that he finds you sexually attractive and want to fornicate, and then if he's lucky, perform coitus with you."

"Welp, it's been nice knowing you dude," Henry said as the boys, with mechanical synchronization, took a single wide step anyway from Erik, leaving the trembling Swede alone beneath Corvo singular attention, the Lord Protector glare was sharper than his dagger.

"I'm sorry! I'm just saying she's pretty!" Erik wilted and went down to his knees, babbling for mercy from the looming Corvo who stalked toward him, not a hint of sympathy spared for the boy. "Please don't kill me!"

"As entertaining as that would be," the Master interrupted the confrontation, "I believe that we have a more pressing matter to discuss."

"Forgive me but, who are you exactly?" Emily now asked, stepping up to stand before the Master.

"Please call me Mr. Master," he gave Emily an elegant bow, befitting her royal status, "for the sake of saving time, let's just say that I'm a very powerful individual that means you no harm and is simply looking for two very important women who are now lost somewhere within your city. It is imperative that they are found, for the sake of us all."

"How concise," the Master can see that Emily was far from receptive of his honesty, "forgive me Mr. Master, but I don't believe a word of that nonsense."

"Emily listen to me," Yuki spoke up, giving her a pleading look, "he's not lying. Something bad is going to happen to Dunwall if we can't find the people we're looking for. You know me and Nikki will never lie to you so please, trust him on this."

"You vouch for him?" Emily shot her a stern look.

"Hey, he's our boss," Nikki gave her cheery input, "he might do stupid things from time to time, but he really have his heart in all the right places."

"Thanks for that Nikki," the Master gave the Russian a thanking nod before returning his gaze to the apparently unmoved Emily, her brows drawn downward into a tight scowl, dark piercing eyes fixed wholly on him. Good God, when the hell did she became so intimidating?

"Corvo, what do you think?" Emily turn to her father for guidance, the Lord Protector was unreadable as he shifted his hard regard to the Master, freeing Erik of his steely gaze, the boy heaved a powerful breath and rushed to join his friends.

"Perhaps he can be trusted," Corvo gave his sullen answer, grim as he looked the Master over like a wolf would an injured deer, "although your timing in requesting aid is abominable, to say the least."

"Oh? And why is that, Lord Protector?" The Master went on politely, feigning ignorance despite having some idea of what Corvo was talking about.

"In recent days, Dunwall have been hit by an unexpected wave of unrest," Corvo strode back to the desk, skimming through the piles of discarded papers.

"Is it violent in nature?" The Master pressed on.

"Kidnapping, murders and rapes, just to name a few," Corvo nodded, "all perpetrated within the vicinity of the wharfs, piers and any location close to the sea. Reports are pouring in from the constables and coastguards of strange group of individuals prowling around the coast, attacking and dragging people into the water."

"These individuals," Tangmo cut in, "did some of them happens to be inhumanly large and wore a strange oversize round helmet on their head?"

Corvo paused, then nodded, confirming the Master suspicion that the doppelgänger Columbia have indeed arrived in the Dishonored universe. The Lord Protector slowly glance at his daughter, the empress betraying nothing in her calm countenance, her gaze held unwavering on the smugly grinning Thai.

"You know these creatures then?" Emily strode up to Tangmo, their height almost matching.

"I killed a lot of them, so yeah," Tangmo said.

"And these two women you seek, are they in league with them?"

"No, they're being hunted."

"And why is that?"

Tangmo shot the Master a flat look and said, "do I just tell her the truth or answer in a vague, untrustworthy way that makes her suspicious of me?"

The Master rolled his eyes but knew that they've reached an important junction where being cryptically cliché would only be detrimental in their effort to find Elizabeth and Eleanor. He hated this. Different universes should be kept separated and ignorant of each other, not mingling and crossing. Fun as this may be for the Eight, the risk of messing up the established canon was really making the Master nervous, especially in a universe like Dishonored where a sequel was incoming. If something drastic were to happen to the setting or, God forbid, Corvo and Emily themselves…better to get this Bioshock invasion over with before things got more out of control.

"Fine," the Master sighed, "tell them everything."

Giving him a curt nod, the Eight began recounting what had happened so far. When they were done, Corvo and Emily didn't respond immediately, instead gazing at each other, looking grimmer than death.

"See, I don't like that look," Tangmo grimaced as Emily turned solemnly to him.

"We've got reports of a possible sighting of the two women you're looking for," Emily began. "It was during a raid on one of the abandoned whaling station west of the city, those splicers and zealots you mentioned have apparently commandeered it into a beachhead for an incursion deeper inland. When the strike group engaged them, they were already evacuating the place, barely putting up a fight. The captain in charge of the attack said that they left unusually quick and seems to be guarding something fiercely. He managed to get close enough to see them hurling away two women, bound and gagged, one had a short black hair and the other a long brunette. He gave chase but was forced back by heavy return fire."

"Where did they take them?" Damien now asked.

"Kingsparrow island."

"The last mission of the game, fitting," Tangmo chuckled, but assumed a more serious posture when Emily eyed him suspiciously, "when did this happen?"

"Close to a week ago."

"Shit…" Henry hissed, hand rising to cover his mouth as he began pacing the room like a student waiting for his test result, "they've been caught for a week? Fuck man…"

"Are they alive?" Laura turned to look at the Master.

"They are," the Master nodded, "but I doubt that would last very long. I can feel them getting weaker with every passing minutes."

"Then what the fuck are we waiting for?" Tangmo growled, his grip tightening on the AA-12. "We know where they are, so let's get over there and kick some ass."

"The island is a fortress," Corvo said, "our scout ships have been trying to get near the place but were driven back by long range artillery fire and heavy guns emplacement. They are well dug in, and nothing short of a direct military assault can breach the beachhead."

"Which is what me and the Lord Protector have been discussing before you lots shows up," Emily continued, "the navy are sailing into shelling position as we speak, while the army had assembled two brigades worth of men for a full frontal attack. Strong and unusual these Big Daddies and Handymen maybe but we have the home field advantage and superior number, it should be enough to break and rout the defenders."

"The attack will be costly," Tangmo told Emily.

"That's what Corvo have been warning me," the young empress said gravely, "you think I should pull back and find a better strategy?"

"No, of course not," Tangmo said, "saving Elizabeth and Eleanor take precedence over everything. But I'm worry about you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a good leader, that I can tell that by just looking at the city and its people, but you're unblooded," Tangmo locked eyes with Emily, letting the words sink in, "this isn't some execution decree or hard bureaucratic decision, empress, you are sending these lads to die. There will be plenty of orphans and widows by the time this is done. Now the big question here is this. Can you live with it? The death, the misery, this will be part of your legacy now. Some embrace it, some break from it. Which one are you?"

"I am not weak," Emily seethed, hands balling into quivering fists, looking about ready to punch Tangmo. "And do not think me blind to the consequences, it is a burden I am willing to bear once all of this is over."

"That's good to know," Tangmo said flatly.

"The attack will commence as planned," Emily announced hotly for everyone in the room to hear, "and I will lead the assault myself."

"Emily…" Corvo tried to calm her but Emily waved him off harshly.

"My mind is made up Corvo," Emily spun on her heels and returned to the desk, going over the many papers and ledgers scattered across the surface.

"As you wish," Corvo went to join her, but not before giving Tangmo a less than kind look.

"So where do I sign up?" Tangmo continued.

"I'm sorry?" Emily shot him an annoyed look.

"I want to be in the frontline, the first contact to be precise. So? Where do I sign yo?"

"Count me in!" Damien raised his hand.

"Me too!" Henry gave Tangmo a friendly smack on the shoulder before coming to stand next to him.

"Umm, excuse me? How is any of this a good idea?" Erik cut in. "Look, I know charging straight for the guns have its charm, but what is this attack going to accomplish exactly? What's stopping evil-Elizabeth from escaping to another reality with good-Elizabeth and Eleanor in tow the first moment she spotted the vanguard?"

"My only concern is ridding Dunwall of these invaders," Emily said coldly, "I'm sorry, but I can't guarantee the safety of your two hostages."

"Don't worry little Em, me and Nikki got that part covered," Yuki said, "the amphibious assault will serves as a decoy, the garrison will be distracted while the three of us sneak into the fortress and get Elizabeth and Eleanor out ."

"Three?" Emily asked.

"Oh sorry, I forgot to mention that Corvo's coming with us."

"I am?" The Lord Protector spoke up, surprised by the easy declaration and the swiftness of Yuki and Nikki decisions.

"Hey, we were the one who helped you when that douchebag admiral betrayed you and took Emily to that island," Nikki reminded him, "if it wasn't for us, you would've been wasting your time prowling through the city instead of going there and killing that little shit. You said so yourself, you owe us, we're just here to collect the payment."

"I believe you're right," Corvo cracked a smile, "so be it then."

"You know your way around the place, right?" Yuki asked expectantly.

"I remember well enough," Corvo nodded, "but a word of caution, I haven't been there since the island was left to condemn a decade ago."

"Good enough is good enough."

"Now that everything's in order," Tangmo chirped up, "how soon are we moving out? Hours? Minutes? Right now?"

"Before dawn tomorrow," Emily said.

"Okay, that'll give me enough time to stock up on the Menazoid barbs and…"

"You've just enlisted into the Dunwall army Tangmo," the Master spoke up, his tone suggesting mischief, "you will wear the proper uniform and armed yourself with the standard gear, befitting that of empress Kaldwin fighting men."

"What the fuck, are you serious bro?!" Tangmo stomped up to the Master, arms thrown wide like a frat boy picking a fight.

"All of you have been running around the multiverses without a single thought spared to the canon for too long," the Master announced loudly to the Eight very vocal protest, "from this point on, your special no holds barred weapon privilege is revoked. You will resume following the canon of each respective world, and that starts now."

"You fucking retard, we're about to bail Elizabeth and Eleanor out of a literal castle Wolfenstein and you decide to pull this shit on us now?!" Tangmo cried indignantly, his distress putting a satisfied smile on Emily's face. "What in the blazing fuck dude?!"

"You'll have an army at your back, don't worry about it," the Master shrugged.

"It's not that you fucking moron!" Damien now bellowed. "You've just eliminated our only advantage in this fight. Fuck the canon, who the fuck play by the rules when the stake are this high?"

"And what if we decide not to listen to your punk ass?" Henry now inquired. "What are you gonna about it?"

"This." The Master snapped his finger and the Eight's twenty first century weaponries all disappeared in a blink. Corvo and Emily had to do a double take on what just happened while the boys stood dumbfounded, hands and arms cradling empty space where their armaments had been a second before.

"You…" Henry gritted his teeth, "mother…fucker…!"

"Now that that's out of the way," the Master patted down his coat and, unperturbed by the torrent of vulgarity boring down on him, strode over to Corvo and Emily, "I would like to go over the detail of the assault again, if that is okay with you."

"It will be my pleasure," Emily smiled. 

* * *

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Did time matter anymore? Only pain and suffering marked the passing of her existence now, days and nights measured by unspeakable cruelty. Elizabeth could no longer find her voice, the sound lost to the endless shrieking of her slow, torturous unmaking. But the agony inflicted upon her shattered body pales to insignificant when she was forced to watch the same inhumanity performed on her dearest friend.

Head held in place by Daisy's vise like hands, eyes taut open, Elizabeth cried and begged as six burly Founders fell on the bound Eleanor in a flurry of batons, beating the girl within an inch of her life, all done under the watchful indifference of Columbia and Sofia. By the time the Founders were finished, Elizabeth could do nothing but wept as she gazed at Eleanor, her bruised and bloody body broken, her breath slow and shallow, her eyes wide but not seeing. A group of doctors in pristine white coat would appear soon after and carried her away to be healed, while Elizabeth was dragged back to her cell, where they would be reunited hours later.

Every night, or day, Elizabeth no longer know, they would weep together and fell asleep in each other arms. Then came morning, or evening, and the torture will commence anew, but this time their role would be reversed. Now it was Eleanor's turn to watch as they strapped Elizabeth to a chair with thick leather bond that fastened her waist, wrists, arms, knees and ankles tight against the rough wooden limbs. After pouring a bucket of frigid ice water over her head, Daisy then proceed to tape flat, metal plates across on her body, each piece connected to a generator by black, snaking wires. Sofia would ask her daughter the same unwinnable question as Daisy began winding up the generator. When the wrong answer came, the Vox would flip a switch that sent torrents of electricity across her drenched body.

It was nothing like the cattle prod. The shocking current was unending as it boils the blood in her veins, becoming more powerful as the minutes draws on, her body twisted and contorted against the binding until it felt like every bones and joints were moments from snapping. She could hear Eleanor bawling her name, every shrieking syllabus slurred by helpless weeping. The thick cloth Daisy had stuffed into her mouth proved a poor distraction from the pain, the rolled up fist size cotton loosening until it slipped from her mouth and her teeth chomped down hard on her tongue, almost biting it clean off.

When the electricity finally ran its course, Elizabeth gagged and choked on the coppery blood drowning her mouth, her muscles forgetting its function. She didn't know who she was, what she was, her cognitive skill reduced to an infantile drooling mess, uncomprehending of the world around her. It was nothing short of a miracle that she remembered how to breathe. Then like pieces of jigsaws falling into place her mind slowly mended, sewing itself back together until recognition returns.

Her name was Elizabeth DeWitt, and along with her friend Eleanor Lamb, they were captured by the doppelgänger Columbia. Hours later, as she gazed at the cramp wall of her cell, Elizabeth wished, not for the first time, that she would simply forget everything.

And for the days after, she endured the same savage ministration. The last one was especially bad. She was laid across a wooden slab that tilted downward, arms and legs spread eagle, with a towel wrapped around her face. Then came the water, pouring over her muffled mouth and nostril. She tried to scream, only succeeding in flooding her lungs, the horrid sensation of a slow, wet suffocation was so overwhelming that when darkness came, she thought for sure that she was dead.

But it wasn't to be.

Elizabeth stuttered awake, but instead of her cell she found herself still inside the torture room, propped up and tided to a chair, no hint of the previous session remained. Had she passed out that long? Or did they just left her here? Moaning, it took Elizabeth a moment to realize that she wasn't alone. Seated opposite her in a plush red chair was Columbia, enjoying a plate of savory spaghetti, slurping the noodle slowly as she relish every bite. Elizabeth stomach grumbled loudly. When was the last time she was fed anything?

"Amatricana pasta, fresh tomatoes sauce with bits of bacon, onion, garlic and a little dash of olive oil," Columbia chew delicately, "you look a famish dear, want some?"

Columbia stabbed the noodle, winds it up into a ball of glistening red and held it out toward Elizabeth. It smelled heavenly, the rich aroma prying her mouth open to accept Columbia merciful gift. She steeled herself at the last minute, clasping her jaw shut and turning her cheeks to the snickering Columbia as she chomped down on the fork. No. Dignity was all she had left now. She must be brave and defiant, not only for herself but also Eleanor.

Eleanor…

"Where's Eleanor?" Elizabeth asked groggily, the raw and haggard voice foreign to her ears. "Where is she?"

"You know, I found your unwavering friendship cute the first few days," Columbia handed the empty plate to Daisy who took it away, "now it's just annoying."

"Jealous?" Elizabeth quipped was received by a sharp slap that left her vision ringing.

"I always knew you'll be trouble," Columbia rolled her hand a few time before sitting back down, "but I never anticipate you to be this…fortitudinous."

"Where's Eleanor?" Elizabeth repeated the question, the doppelgänger refusing to answer.

"Do you know why this is happening?" Columbia spoke after a moment.

"Does it matter?"

"If you want your suffering to end, then yes."

Elizabeth managed to bark a laugh, "just save your breath and put a gun to my head then, I'm tired of this charade. At least Atlas can act worth a damn."

Both of Columbia hands lashes out and wringed Elizabeth neck, squeezing like an iron vise.

"It would be so easy to just kill you now," Columbia was right, she was like a weak little kitten in the hands of a deranged girl. Darkness closing in, Elizabeth was moments away from losing consciousness when the doppelgänger released her grip. Coughing, hot air warming her lungs, Elizabeth vision was a blurry mess as Columbia went back to her seat, all three of them moving in perfect synchronization. When the doppelgänger finally coalesced into a single entity, Elizabeth saw someone new standing behind her. A young woman, ghostly pale, black haired, clad in black tank top and tight black jeans, a silver medallion of an Egyptian ankh hanging from her neck. She was surprised when Elizabeth met her eyes and was gone in a blink. Great, now she was hallucinating too.

"To simply kill you wouldn't do any good," Columbia continued, "Death doesn't make one more compliant."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Elizabeth croaked weakly.

"Did you ever wonder why I was able to follow you everywhere so easily?" Columbia crossed her legs. "Or how I managed to make a replica of Booker and Anna? Or turn your gun to dust? Or summon multiple Tears on a whim?"

Elizabeth didn't answer. Come to think of it, how did Columbia managed all of that when she could barely create a Tear of her own? Noticing Elizabeth uncomprehending silence, the doppelgänger pressed on.

"You see, I wasn't terribly truthful about the time following my rebirth, for although it is true that many worlds were shattered by your hands, some of them survived intact, with its own variation of the past, present and future. And of course there is always an Elizabeth, with the same power like you and me."

Columbia paused for a moment before continuing.

"I remember the first other-Elizabeth I met, this one having managed to flee Father Comstock and went on to live an unassuming life on a farm in Missouri. I tried to convince her to join me in avenging the worlds you've destroyed, but she stubbornly said no. So naturally, I killed her. It was quick, a bullet to the heart, but what make this incident momentous was that after she died, her soul flitted out of her body."

Columbia chuckled at her own observation, shaking her head lightly.

"Soul…no, not a soul per say, more likes an essence that had somehow infused itself with the Tear, giving it a physical manifestation in our plane of existence. So being the curious person that I am, I reached out and touched it," Columbia shivered slightly, "you can't even begin to imagine how intoxicating it was to feel pure, undiluted power coursing through your vein. I wasn't sure what that thing was, but I sure as hell want it. So simply put I…absorbed the spirit of the deceased Elizabeth into me. And the power…oh God, my body was aflame with power. Opening Tears and pulling things through became as easy as breathing, then other more complex abilities began to follow. I should be content but, God forgive me, I needed more. So I began scouring the multitude of reality, searching for more of our surviving sisters and taking their essence. It's not like they were doing anything useful with it anyway.

"There was some complication that started to arise however. You see those essences that I've consumed were, for the lack of better term, sentient. The personality, memories, drives and will were still intact when I ingest them. Soon enough my mind was being assailed by angry noises that threatened to tear me apart from the inside. I managed to kill the rebellious voices for good though, breaking them into little pieces, like pulling wings off a butterfly before crushing it. I then hypothesize that those powerful emotions were transferred to the essence in the moment of the vessel capitulation. Therefore, I came to a conclusion that the spirit needed to be weakened mentally before it can be prepared for consumption."

"So that's what the torture is for," Elizabeth said, "you needed to break me down until I don't have the will to live anymore."

"Very good, my dear," Columbia clapped mockingly, "even after all these time you can still think clearly, I'm impressed."

"But why Eleanor?" Elizabeth asked. "She doesn't have any essence to be absorbed, why are you hurting her?"

"Oh, that's just what Sofia wanted," Columbia shrugged, "no matter how much she denies it, Eleanor was her greatest accomplishment. With the torture, she hopes to break the girl and make her obedient again."

"You're wasting your time," Elizabeth grinned weakly, "you can strips us down to the bones and we'll still spit in your face."

"I'm getting very impatient, Elizabeth," Columbia tone darkened, "stubbornness can be admirable, but too much of it can quickly escalate simple annoyance into outright contempt. Like a child who refuses to eat her green, a mother can only endure so much before she forced it down the little brat's throat."

"Good thing you don't have children then."

"Hard like a rock that shatters every hammer that tries to break it. Interesting, I wonder if such endurance will last when you're the last one standing."

"…What do you mean?!"

"Bring her in," Columbia got off her seat as Sofia pushed a wheeled hospital bed into view, strapped to the metal surface was a struggling Eleanor, fighting futilely against the coarse leather binding her wrists, waist and ankles. Hefting the red cushion chair out of the way, Daisy went to assist Sofia as they rolled the bed to a stop before Elizabeth. Turning a few rusty knobs and hinges on the underside of the bed, they tilted it upward until Eleanor was propped up almost vertically, hers and Elizabeth frightened eyes meeting.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth demanded as Columbia strode over and tore the front of Eleanor's dirty gown open, revealing her breasts for all to see. Elizabeth tried to look away but Daisy forced her eyes back to the naked Eleanor, the girl flushing red with shame.

"Let's start with the injection first," Sofia nodded to Columbia's command and stabbed a syringe less than gently into Eleanor's neck.

"Now let's see if this works," Columbia reached over to a small medical table next to the bed and picked up a scalpel, the sterilized blade gleaming in the light. With exaggerated care, Columbia made a small nick on Eleanor's forearm, red blood trickling from the tiny cut. Minutes passed and the doppelgänger smiled, while Eleanor went pale.

"It's not healing…" Eleanor stared at the wound, words coming in fearful rasp.

"Indeed it isn't," Columbia smirked, cleaning the scalpel, "your healing metabolism will be very counterproductive to what I'm about to do. Also, it wouldn't be needed once this is over."

"Don't hurt her!" Elizabeth pleaded. "Please! Don't hurt her!"

"I'm sure you are familiar with the post mortem autopsy procedure?" Columbia ignored her, "don't lie to me now Elizabeth, I know we both read that biology text book back in the tower library."

"No! Please!" Elizabeth struggled against her bond, the leather biting into her wrists until it started bleeding.

"It's very simple really," Columbia placed the scalpel on Eleanor's right shoulder, "we simply make a Y shape incision across the torso, two lines running down from both shoulders and one coming up from the navel, all three meeting right here, between the breasts. Then we pry the flesh open to the reveal the ribcages and all the organs working inside. At this point, poor Eleanor might have already gone into shock but if she doesn't, well, we'll find out how long she remains conscious when we start exhuming her stomach."

"Please…please…" Elizabeth sobbed, head hung low in defeat.

"It's okay Elizabeth," Eleanor whimpered, tears streaking down her face, a weak smile grazing her lips, "I'm going to be okay…don't worry…I'll be okay…"

Despair weighing heavy across her shoulders like a black shroud, Elizabeth could only watch as Columbia continued talking, hearing nothing but a droning mumble as she ran the blunt side of the scalpel over Eleanor's skin, tracing the spot where she would make the incision. Tear still rolling down her cheeks, Elizabeth was gasping for air when her breathing suddenly stilled, an unexpected calmness coming to hover over the dark desolation of her mind. Her anguish, so pronounced mere seconds before, slowly lessened like a tide retreating from the shore, and in its place sparks began flashing until white hot flame was struck, the ignition immolating the cold veil of anguish draping over her body. And as the soot drifted away, all that remained was anger. Anger for the injustice brought upon them, anger at the ignominy they had to endure, anger at their helpless state. Fists clenching, mouth twisted into a lupine snarl, Elizabeth glared at her tormentors and hissed:

"I'll kill you."

All chatters died then, Columbia and Sofia spinning around to face her, eyes wide and flabbergasted. Even Daisy's grip on her head faltered, the vehemence in her voice startling even the battle hardened Vox.

"If you touch her…" Elizabeth barred her teeth, "I am going to kill every last one of you…"

"Oh?" Columbia smirked as she placed the tip of the scalpel on Eleanor's right breast. "Is that so little lamb?"

"I'll kill you!" Elizabeth screamed, kicking and thrashing against the chair. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"Now that's something I like to see," Columbia shifted her grip on the surgeon knife, holding it inverted with the sharpened blade pointed downward.

"See Eleanor, I was going to be a little restrain at first," Columbia looked at Eleanor, whose face has hardened after Elizabeth outburst, "but your friend there had to go and open her stupid mouth, so unfortunately, I need to hurt you really bad. I hope you can forgive me."

"Piss off you fucking cunt!" Eleanor spat, siphoning Elizabeth's courage as she glared at the doppelgänger.

"What a rude little girl!" Columbia feigns indignation as she raised the scalpel above her head. "And potty mouth little girl need to be punished."

A concussive vibration rocked the room, throwing Columbia off balance, the scalpel flew from her hand and skidded across the polished white tile floor.

"What in the hell?!" Daisy demanded when another shockwave rippled through the room, muffled explosion reverberating across the wall, ceiling and floor. Another thunderous boom came after that, then another, and another, like the furious beating of a marching drum, the tempo continuous and rising in cadence.

"Lady Columbia!" A trio of Founder burst into the room, wide eyed and sweating like startled dogs. "We're under attack!"

"What!?" Columbia bellowed. "By who?!"

"I don't know mam, but they're shelling us all to hell!"

"We'll take care of this, Sofia, Daisy, come with me," Columbia jogged quickly toward the open door but waved hurriedly back into the room. "You three take them back to their cell and keep them there."

Elizabeth couldn't help by grin as the Founders began removing her bond and carrying her, and Eleanor, out of the room. Looks like there's still some fighting chance after all.


	24. Operation: Curtain Calls

"Everyone keep your heads down and use whatever cover you can find, don't stop for anything and fire only when you're sure you can kill those sum bitches. Good luck, and I'll see you on the beach."

"So you've done this before I presume?"

Huddled beside Henry, Emily asked as she gave her pistol one last check over, the task proving difficult due to the constant lurching motion of the truck size rectangular landing craft, bearing a striking resemblance to those used during D-Day, cutting through the angry wave toward the horseshoe shaped beach of Kingsparrow Island.

"Are you sure you want to be here your highness?" Tangmo shouted over the crashing sea, turning to look at Emily who stood shoulder to shoulder with him on the left.

"My place is perfectly fine, private Tangmo," Emily put a more than necessary emphasis on his rank, "as I told Corvo, I shall lead from the front."

"Your funeral lady," Tangmo shook his head and gave the jittery platoon behind him a less than impressed glance. Besides himself, Henry, Damien, Erik, Laura and Lita, the lads in the landing craft looked like they've just graduated from basic training, or military academy for the snappily dressed officers. And all of them look about ready to piss themselves. No wait, scratched that, four of them already soaked their pants through and two others were puking over the side. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Your handpicked men are really nervous your highness," Tangmo told Emily.

"They'll do fine, private," Emily tried to sound confident, but the hint of uncertainty was hard to miss.

"Yeah, for cannon fodder."

"They just need a little inspiration to lift their spirit, that's all!" Henry quickly interrupted before Emily and Tangmo can get into another spat, the commissar and the empress have been arguing like a crotchety old couple since their initial meeting twelve hours ago.

"Leave that to me!" Laura announced over the booms and whistles of artillery fire, cleared her throat dramatically and was opening her mouth when Tangmo cut in.

"Oh no! We already sang 'Men of Harlech', we are not having another English patriotic song!"

"You don't even know what I'm about to sing!" Laura shot back hotly.

"It's the British Grenadier, isn't it?"

"What are you, fooking Charles Xavier?!"

"Don't need physic power to see through you dude!"

"Is this really an important topic right now?!" Emily interrupted the banter when a large plume shot skyward not ten feet from their transport, spraying everyone on board with thick sheen of sea water, the Rapture and Columbia soldiers were returning fire now. Behind Tangmo, fearful murmur rippled forward, shaky whimpers and chattering prayers parting trembling lips. By the God Emperor of mankind, this one time he needed to blam people and he didn't have his laspistol!

"Perhaps I can provide a compromising alternative," Erik offered.

"Go for it bro!" Tangmo said.

Inhaling sharply, Erik raised his head to the sky and bellowed five words in a rough, but strangely melodic baritone:

"THROUGH THE GATE OF HELL!"

"AS WE MAKE OUR WAY TO HEAVEN!" Tangmo joined in.

"THOUGH THE NAZI'S LINE!" Henry added his voice to the mix.

"PRIMO VICTORIA!" Damien completed the chorus as The Eight, now reduced to six, began headbanging, much to the gaping confusing of Emily and the Dunwall soldiers who could only gawk in muted perplexity at the strange display.

"AIMING FOR HEAVEN THOUGH SERVING IN HELL!" Lita sang as the landing craft grinded to a halt on the beach, metallic clanging rattled through the hull as the vertically hinged door on the bulkhead began to lower.

"VICTORY'S OUR! THEIR FORCES WILL FALL!" Laura shouted as the door slammed on to the wet sand and the platoon rushes forward. Five seconds later machine gun fire met them in a savage salvo. 

* * *

She was weak and vulnerable. Her nakedness aside, Eleanor knew there was little she could do against the two captors dragging her back to the cell. She had no plasmids, weaker than a newborn kitten, and without her accelerated healing metabolism. All she had was her less than adequate strength and semi-functioning wits. So she feigns unconsciousness, head drooped down and lolling as they carried her through the shaking corridor. She should be grateful that none of them had groped her yet.

"Let go of me!" Behind Eleanor, Elizabeth kicked and squirmed against her exasperated captor.

"Stop moving damn it!" The Founder, a boy that looked a couple of years younger than Elizabeth, struggled to keep the brunette still as he lagged behind the others.

"Would you hurry up already?" The man holding Eleanor right arm snapped. "I want to be in the bunker before this place falls apart…"

His sentence died in his throat when a concussive tremor rippled across the hall, so powerful and sudden that all three captors titled and wobbled like skinny trees caught in a storm, scrambling to find a steady footing on the shuddering ground. Eyes snapping open, Eleanor inhaled sharply, braced her feet on the cold floor and pushed with all her strength to the right. Already off balanced by the pounding quake, the Founder holding her left arm lost his grip as she bulled her shoulder into the one on the right, the momentum carrying her forward like a wrecking ball and knocked him off his feet. The Founder surprised yelp ended with a crashing thud when his skull collided into the wall, his limp body sliding awkwardly to the ground. Eleanor didn't have time to celebrate however, for his companion charged straight for her, his meaty hands wrapping around her neck.

Just as he started squeezing another explosion rocked the corridor, the powerful reverberation causing his grip to slip. Remembering a move she saw Tangmo used, Eleanor swathe away the Founder hands and pulled his head into the nook of her forearms, a clinch she believed it was called, and rammed her knee up between his legs. With a straggle grunt, the man folded and fell to the ground, rigid like chopped wood, hands covering his crotch.

A high-pitched yelp sounded behind her and Eleanor spun to see the Founder boy pinning Elizabeth to the ground, the brunette slapping and kicking as the growling youth raised his hand to strike her. Wrenching a baton free from the incapacitated man's belt, Eleanor reeled back her arm and swung the wooden cudgel at the boy. He screamed, clutching the side of his bloodied face as he rolled off Elizabeth. Eleanor slammed the truncheon on his head again, stilling him. Panting, the baton slipping from her fingers, Eleanor leaned weakly against the dirty wall, realizing just then how badly her captivity and torture had taken its physical toll.

A loud bonk jolt her awake, body tensing in anticipation of the pain that would bloom across her head, or back, or any part of her body the Founder have chosen to struck. None came. Blinking, Eleanor found Elizabeth standing over the Founder she had kneed in the groin, a baton in her hand, the man feeble moaning no longer heard.

"Thanks," Eleanor nodded and pushed herself off the wall.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth cheeks reddened as she turned away from Eleanor with a squeaking jitter. It took a moment for her to realize that she was still quite naked. Head darting left and right, Eleanor quickly skipped over to the unmoving Founder youth and stripped him.

"You should put something on too," Eleanor said as she pulled his trouser up her legs, "you're not exactly dressed modestly yourself."

"Agreed," Elizabeth nodded briskly before relieving the unconscious Founder of his uniform. By the time they were, more or less, properly attired, both she and Elizabeth looked like children wearing adult clothe, everything comically oversized and barely staying on their slim form.

"Beggars can't be chooser," Eleanor shrugged before casting a wary glance down the empty hallway, everything stuttered and shook, the artillery barrage unceasing and getting stronger.

"You think that's the Eight?" Elizabeth came to stand beside her.

"Could be," Eleanor slowly jogged down the corridor, "but whoever it is, they can't be worse than Columbia and mother."

"Can't argue with that," Elizabeth nodded and was taking a single step forward when a weak tremor caused her to stumble and fall. The brunette grunted and rose slowly, legs shaking as she leaned against the wall for support.

"Oh God," Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth arm and threw it over her shoulder, hefting her up until she stood erected. Gritting her teeth, Eleanor slowly carried Elizabeth down the hall, the added weight easing when the brunette found her footing, both using the other to remain upright.

"You can barely stand," Eleanor said as they lumbered down the stuttering corridor.

"You don't look that good yourself," Elizabeth made her observation and Eleanor agreed wholeheartedly, but they needed to keep moving no matter what, it's that or suffer the slow torturous death Columbia had promised them.

"We need a place to hide at least," Eleanor said.

"That, I could agree with," Elizabeth nodded, "any idea where we're going?"

"Not a clue," Eleanor adjusted her grip on Elizabeth, the explosion above starting to lessen, "but anywhere is better than here." 

* * *

"Something's wrong," Yuki said as she pulled her tanto out of a dead Vox, the blade sheathed in gleaming crimson.

"Yeah," Nikki nodded in agreement as she cleaned her two daggers on the shirt of a slain guerilla fighter, slick dark blood pouring from his slit throat to pool around his head, "the Blink isn't working."

Yuki concentrated, balling her hand into a fist and concentrated on a spot down the dim passageway, feeling the Outsider sorcery coalescing on the simmering mark just beneath her knuckles. But before she could unleash the power, it stuttered and faded to nothing, like a car refusing to start up.

With the help of Samuel, the trusty boatman from the first Dishonored game, she, Nikki and Corvo was able to reach the edge of Kingsparrow Island undetected, the old man boat gliding soundlessly pass the many sentries patrolling the area. The Blink worked then, the three of them teleporting from one jutting rock to another until they reached the fortress proper. That was when their supernatural power started going wonky. The deeper they went into the island, the more the Outsider power glitch, making the task of moving unseen that much more difficult.

And now that they were in the bowel of the island, the power had stopped working completely.

Shit.

"It must be that syphon thing the Master told us about," Yuki gave Corvo an apologetic look, "sorry, we didn't anticipate this. I Hope it's not too much trouble on your end."

"I was an accomplished assassin long before I was given this…gift," Corvo voice was muffled beneath his scary iconic skull mask, "these runts won't be a problem."

"Good to know," Nikki said as she adjusted the ebon masquerade mask covering the top half of her face. The Russian was clad in a form fitting black shirt and legging, a leather vest covered her torso and a belt of the same material circled her waist, knives of various sizes and function were strapped across her armored chest and around her hips. A hooded cloak completed the ensemble. All in all, she looked like Ezio Auditore in black.

As for Yuki? She was decked out in a semi-historically accurate apparel of a kunoichi, despite the term being coined in the modern era. Midnight silk wrapped her from head to toe, a harden leather dou armor strapped tight to her chest, cloth covered iron plate kote armguard and tekko gauntlets covered her arms and hands, a demonic mempo concealed the lower half of her face, a katana jutting just above her right shoulder (there was no way in hell she was going to use some cheap ass ninjato), and finally a tanto tucked inside the himo sash around her waist.

It was so cool to play dress up once in a while!

"Master, we're in, what's next?" Yuki spoke up, glancing up and down the corridor to make sure that it was empty. Luckily, beside the six grunts they ran into, there was no one else around.

"Okay, if I guess correctly," the Master responded via telepathy, the man was on one of the observation ship, far from the actual fight itself, "Elizabeth and Eleanor are probably being kept in a holding cell somewhere deep underground."

"Got it." Yuki nodded and turned to Corvo. "You remember where the brig is, right?"

"Of course." the Lord Protector strode down the corridor. "It's this way, follow me."

"Wait, wait, wait!" The Master hurried utterance brought Yuki and Nikki to a skidding stop.

"What?!" The ninja demanded loudly, Corvo stopping at a bend and glance back at her, his body posture suggesting urgency, bending like a tiger ready to pounce.

"There's a syphon active somewhere on the island," the Master continued, "I need you to find it."

"And destroy it, gotcha," Nikki finished the sentence for him.

"No! I need you to make sure that nothing happens to it. Until Elizabeth and Eleanor is safe, that thing need to stay on no matter what."

"I'm sorry what?!" Yuki couldn't believe what she just heard. Keep the syphon on? Wouldn't that just handicapped Elizabeth further?

"The doppelgänger uses the same power as Elizabeth," the Master went on quickly, "if that syphon stays up then she can't open any Tear. That means she can't run away."

"Ah, now I understand," Yuki nodded briskly before turning to Nikki and Corvo, "change of plan, we have to split up."

"Capital. So who goes to the brig and who goes to the syphon?" Nikki shook her head exasperatedly, having also heard the Master telepathic communication.

"You have any idea where it could be?" Yuki asked Corvo.

"I'm not sure," the Lord Protector said, "this syphon, it's a machine that's blocking the Outsider power, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Something that powerful must require a substantial amount of energy to function, and a large enough space to provide the sufficient input of fuel and the corresponding output of power. There's no such place on Kingsparrow Island, but the closest that can be commandeered to such a task would be the cavern dock on the eastern side of the island. Its big enough for two ship to sail in and out at the same time, my bet for the syphon location would be there."

"Okay cool, which way is that?" Nikki asked.

"Take the southern corridor," Corvo pointed down the opposite way he was going, "head on straight until you come to a three-way junction, then take a left. There will be a stairway at the end of the hall, go up two floors and you'll reach the dock."

"So who's going where?" Yuki chimed in.

"I'll find the two women," Corvo offered, "I know this place better than the both of you, I should be able to retrieve Elizabeth and Eleanor quickly and find a place for them to hide until Emily break the defender."

"Leave the hardest job to us little girls, how gentlemanly of you," Nikki gave him a less than serious chiding.

"Both of you are far from defenseless," Corvo chuckled before slipping behind a bend, swift and soundless like a shadow.

"So…which way?" Yuki unsheathed her katana and gave it a few warm up twirls before adjusting her mempo.

"Over here," Nikki inverted the grip on her daggers and took the lead, "what's the plan here?"

"Kill everything that moves and make sure that the syphon thing stays on."

"Sounds simple enough." 

* * *

"Holy shit, these motherfuckers ain't fucking around!"

Tangmo could barely hear Henry over the thunderous din of gunfire and explosion, bullets whizzed above him like demented wasps, dying soldiers howled in cacophonic desolation as the world sundered to the unceasing symphony of war. As luck would have it, the Dunwall artillery barrage had pocked the Kingsparrow beachhead with ample size craters, creating a much needed cover for the attacking force. Now they were all bunched up on the rise facing the defenders, machinegun fire peppered their position, pinning them firmly inside the hole, the sporadic return fire from the single action nineteen century rifle of the Dunwall soldiers doing little to stem the furious onslaught.

Behind Tangmo, shredded corpses plastered the opposite wall like macabre mural, blood darkening the wet, sloshing sand. While beneath him the bodies that rolled into the crater were stacked two men high, becoming stepping stone for their terrified, but still living, compatriot.

"No fear men of Dunwall!" Emily bellowed, rising up above the rim, standing proud like a statue, saber blazing above her head. "Push onward!"

"Get down you idiot!" Grabbing the belt just above her firm bottom, Tangmo yanked the yelping Emily back into cover the same moment flashing bullets streaked past where she had stood.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Emily shrieked in his face.

"I just saved your dumbass life woman, how about a little gratitude!?" Tangmo shouted back and carefully edges his head over the rim, bullet zipping so close that he could feel it cutting the air. Taking a quick look around, Tangmo was able to glean the detail on the gun emplacement before another salvo forced him back into the crater.

"They got four automated turrets to the left and the center," Tangmo told his friends and Emily, "but there's a manned pillbox to the right armed with two 50 caliber Browning. I say we hit that one then turn the guns on the sentries."

"There's still the problem of the unending rain of death pouring down on us," Lita chirped up, "how are we supposed to get through that?"

"All right listen up you limp dick fuckups!" Tangmo roared over the raging battle, the huddling Dunwall soldiers glancing up at him with teary frightened eyes. "Load your guns and prepare to fire continuous volley at the gun emplacements over there, I want each salvo coming every six seconds, do not stop firing until everything in that direction is dead, do you get me?"

They stared at him. Doleful eyes gleaming with incomprehension, or was that the blank unresponsiveness as the gears in their head attempt to make sense of Tangmo's command? Whatever it was, it pissed him off. Inhaling sharply, Tangmo bellowed at Dunwall soldiers:

"I gave y'all an order, you fucking worthless grots!"

"Yes sir! Yes sir!"

Privates and captains alike burst into motion, scrambling up the incline and quickly reloading their rifle, some fumbling in haste, spilling gunpowder and bullets.

"At least you bitches still understand simple instruction," Tangmo continued to channel his inner gunnery sergeant Hartman, "now fix bayonets ladies! Prepare for blood!"

"You can't be serious," Emily eyed him with a mixture of dread and incomprehensibility.

"Relax," he flashed her a smile, "this is nothing compare to the crazy suicidal shit I've done in the past."

"Yo dude, we're ready!" Henry shouted, looking overly eager to leap into the fray.

"Up! Up! Stand up!" Tangmo climbed up and stood on the rim, waving for the Dunwall soldiers to follow suit. "Get your asses up and make ready!"

With more than obvious reluctance, the officers began blowing their World War I style whistle, prodding their underlings up, rifle level at the ready. Five immediately went down as a burst of gunfire hammered their position, flailing twisted bodies careening back into the crater.

"Eyes forward motherfuckers!" Tangmo shouted over the teary wail of the Dunwall soldiery, running up and down the line, hot lead hissing close but none grazing him. He was lucky like that. And as expected, his fearless commissar routine was instilling a semblance of courage into the green, spineless recruits who looked at him with unbelieving awe.

"Make ready!" Tangmo yelled, making sure to exploit this moment of gallantry before it fades.

"Take aim!" Tangmo braced his own rifle and took aim at the line of automated sentries, behind him the sound of shouldering guns and clicking hammer made a reassuring tune.

"Fire!" Smoke exploded as Tangmo pulled the trigger, thunder drowning the unceasing staccato of machinegun fire, white clouds of acrid sulfur blanketing over the crater.

"Second rank, take aim and fire!"

And they actually did. The Dunwall soldiers began laying down suppressive volley on the Rapture Columbia line. Targets obscured by the rising smoke, the sentries began discharging their payload wildly, the sensors unable to pinpoint anything inside the white haze. The pillbox on the other hand, had ceased firing completely, muffled curses blaring from the gunners.

"Okay that's our cue, let's go!" Tangmo led his five companion in a badass charge across no man's land, no war cry, no screaming, no cursing, just chilling silent, head held low and bayonet pointed forward. It took them about five seconds to reach the encircling sandbag, where a mismatched bunch of Rapture and Columbia goons were busy reloading and unjamming the heavy machine gun. Tangmo shot a startled gunner point blank in the face, the bullet going into his left eye and exiting his skull in a brilliant red mist, leapt over his corpse and the sandbag, and rammed the bayonet into the neck of a Founder fumbling for his shotgun. Pinning the squirming man to the ground, Tangmo pulled a pistol from his belt and fired at a pair of Atlas guerrilla rushing him, rifles held like a club. One went down with a hole in his head while the other made a swing at Tangmo. Ducking, the rifle butt missing by a couple of inches, Tangmo tightened his grip on his rifle and swung it upward like a Chinese guandao. The guerrilla staggered back, hands clutching his neck, blood bursting from his severed jugular. A heartbeat later he dropped to ground, unmoving in a pool of his own blood.

"Die!" Oh shit, he missed one?

Tangmo spun to face the charging, machete wielding Vox and was about to stick the bayonet's pointy end in his gut when a black shape tackled him to the ground. With a breathless grunt he went still, face down in the mud as Emily Kaldwin rose slowly to her feet, her scarlet sheathed straight saber pull free from his ribcage.

"Thank you your highness," Tangmo gave Emily a nod, "truly."

"Oh?" Emily smirked as she cleaned the blade on the Vox's shirt. "No, 'I got that under control and don't need your help' nonsense?"

"I give credit where it's due," Tangmo grinned, "thanks."

"And here I thought you were all glum and sour."

Tangmo chuckled and watched as Lita and Damien took the two Browning from the dead Ryan Security team and unleashed a hellish barrage on the four sentries, turning the box shaped turrets into shredded pieces of scrap metal. Nearby, Henry and Erik took cover behind a pile of crates and, having discarded the nineteen century rifles for the more modern Sten and Thompson, were laying down suppressive fire on the Columbia and Rapture grunt trying to retake their position. Laura on the other hand, was prowling the pillbox and finishing off any survivor, clubbing them to death with the butt of her rifle.

"Are the soldiers breaking through yet?" Tangmo strode up to Damien who was loading a new ammo belt into the receiver.

"Oh yeah," the Canadian smiled and pointed at the mass of blue clad Dunwall infantry charging for the fortress open gate, hubristically left opened by the technologically superior defenders. Supported by Lita's supporting fire, the soldiers easily broke through the Rapture and Columbia line, meeting them with swords, bayonets and pointblank gunfire, returning the bloody favor from the beach with heavy interest.

"Now with that done," Tangmo placed down his rifle and took a shotgun and two ammo belts from a dead guerrilla, giving it a few pumps before inserting the shells, "time to find the two lambs."

The remaining Eight nodded their assents and began arming themselves with better weapons.

"You know any side doors we can use?" Tangmo turned to Emily.

"There should be a maintenance door at the base of that watchtower over there," Emily pointed at a metallic tower not twenty paces from the pillbox, "if Corvo's schematic is anything to go by."

"That will have to do," Tangmo glance at the engaged line of Dishonored soliders locked in a vicious melee with the Bioshock grunts, the advance gridding to a halt. Behinds the faltering Vox and Founders, splicers and a few Big Daddies were rushing forward to join the fray.

"You might want to get down their Emily," Tangmo nudged his head toward the battle and turned to leave, "your men need all the support they can get."

"Okay, but Tangmo," the commissar spun around and saw the empress holding out her hand.

"Good luck," Emily said.

"God speed Emily," Tangmo took her hand and shook firmly before both headed off.

"Kiss and make up yet?" Laura gave a nasty grin as he joined the other.

"…You could say that." 

* * *

Columbia watched from atop a tower situated behind the second tier wall with rising discontent as the local army managed to break through her loyal men, gutting them with bayonets and sending the survivor fleeing into the safety of the fortress interior. She eyed the woman leading them. Dark black hair, lean handsome face, her resemblance to Elizabeth and Eleanor was unmistakable. Another variable maybe? There's a tower and a girl after all. Hell, it would be rather amusing if her name begin with an E also. But that was all idle musing, there were more important things to take care of right now.

"Cooper, are you there dear?" Columbia spoke into her radio. "I think it's time we depart this horrid place. Power down the syphon."

"Umm…Cooper can't come to the radio right now," a chirpy, unfamiliar voice replied, "he's a little dead from a very serious case of shanking."

"Who is this?" Columbia demanded, anger prickling her skin.

"It's one of those Eight bastards," Daisy spoke up from her side, looking alarm, "they're here."

"Damn right we are!" Another voice blared brightly. "Oh, and this syphon doohickey thing is gonna stay up for as long as we like."

"This certainly complicate things," Sofia gave her calm input.

"Do you honestly think the two of you stand a as chance against my men?" Columbia hissed into the radio.

"Well…yeah, I mean, we just fucking murdered a whole bunch of them a few minutes ago," the girl continued before changing her accent to what Columbia assumed was an exaggerated southern drawl, "we make'em squeal like a pig didn't we Nikki?"

"Right you are Yuki!" The other one exclaimed. "Heavens, I ain't nevah heard nobody screamed that loud before!"

"I'll take my best men and have that syphon destroy," Daisy said as she headed toward the stairs leading down back into the fortress.

"Be careful Daisy," Columbia called after the Vox and switched her radio to a different frequency.

"Elizabeth and Eleanor will make a good bargaining chip in this situation," Sofia strode toward the door and waved for Columbia to follow.

"Great idea Sofia," Columbia concurred, both of them were descending the spiral staircase when the radio stuttered to life.

"Lady Columbia?" Came a subdued voice.

"What is it?" The demur utterance irked Columbia in all the wrong.

"The two prisoners…" he began, then mustered the courage to say the one thing she didn't want to hear, "they've escaped."

"THEY WHAT?!" Columbia shrieked into the radio, the reverberating echo bouncing off the stairwell, making Sofia's brow rise in surprise.

"We're already on their trail, lady Columbia," the man went on quickly, "it's only a matter of time before we find them."

"You know what? Just make sure they don't escape," Columbia said snappily, "I'm going to find them myself. Goes to show what happens when I put my faith in a bunch of incompetents."

Columbia turned off the radio before the man can begin his whiny apology, took a few calming breath then asked Sofia:

"What is the progress on Songbird repair?"

"He should be functional, for the task you wish of him that is."

"Good," Columbia turned the radio knobs a few times before speaking, "Dr. Ally? It's time he wake up our hunter." 

* * *

"They went this way, come on!"

Elizabeth gasped for air as she and Eleanor shambled down the corridor, their feet barely lifting off the ground, every steps weighing heavier than the last. The sound of stomping boots was drawing nearer and Elizabeth knew it was only a matter of time before the group of Founder round the bend and finds them.

"In here," Eleanor voice was a tired rasp as she guided Elizabeth toward a door on the right, it took their combined effort to push the aging thing open, the scraping wood raking their ears. Stumbling inside, they pushed the door close and slammed the rusty lock. Taking a moment to breathe, Elizabeth saw that they were in some kind of communal room, rotting couches, chairs and tables draped in three inches of dust.

"We have to keep moving," Elizabeth walked slowly toward the door on the other side of the room.

"Wait," Eleanor went to a round table and place her hands on its grimy surface, "we need to brace the door."

"Okay," with her help, they slow slid the table across the room until it was pressed firmly against the locked door. Outside, the group of Founder that had been following them thundered passed, not even sparing a glance in their direction.

"That was close," Eleanor gave a shaky smile, grabbing Elizabeth arm, "how are you holding up?"

"Just peachy," Elizabeth nodded as they trotted over to the door. Easing it open by the tiniest fraction, Eleanor peered into the crack before slowly poking her head outside.

"It's clear, let's go," Eleanor slipped into another corridor, Elizabeth following briskly. The place was empty and eerie quiet, the pounding artillery had long ceased, causing her to start wondering what was happening outside. Were the Eight successful in breaching…whatever this place was? Or did Columbia repelled the attack and was issuing a full scale manhunt for them? So lost in thought, Elizabeth kept walking until she bumped into Eleanor who had stopped at a two way junction.

"Sorry!" Elizabeth hissed, keeping her voice low despite the apparent lack of people.

"You sure you don't need a rest?" Eleanor shot her a worried look.

"I was just thinking, I'm fine."

"Happy thoughts, I hope?"

"Of course, warm sunny beaches, clear blue sky and rainbow."

"Sounds nice…" Elizabeth was about to stride forward when Eleanor's arm shot out to bar her way, her eyes narrowing down the left corridor.

"What is it?" The question barely left Elizabeth lips when gunfire exploded down the hall, so loud and sudden that both her and Eleanor squealed in fright. Mouths snapped shut, Elizabeth and Eleanor gingerly leaned across the wall, watching with rising trepidation as the flashes of discharging gunfire flare brighter, the ringing bang sending near tangible ripples across the air. Then came the scream, horrific and straggled, followed by the wet rasping of blade rending flesh.

"Maybe it's the Eight?" Eleanor offered.

"I hope so," Elizabeth prayed silently that Eleanor was right.

A Vox stumbled into the corridor, a hand clutching his bleeding side as he tripped over his own foot and went sprawling to the ground. A black shape glided silently after him, a tall man clad head to toe in black, a strange mechanical skull mask peering from the hood over his head.

"No! Please!" The Vox plea went unheeded as the many stabbed downward, his movement a blur as the dagger went into the man chest. Twisting, he wrenched it free and looked straight in their direction.

"Oh God," Eleanor croak as the man began striding toward them, a hint of urgency in his gait.

"No, no, no!" Elizabeth head darted between the approaching man and the corridor behind them, frantically trying to find an avenue of escape.

"Hang on!" Before she knew what was happening, Eleanor snatched her wrist and pulled her down the right corridor, toward an open door with a staircase behind it.

"Wait! Stop!" The man sprinted toward them and good God was he inhumanly fast, it only took him four strides to reach them. Even on her best day, Elizabeth doubts she could outrun him.

"No! Get away!" Elizabeth swathed at his reaching hand, wincing when it felt like she just punched a brick wall.

"I'm here to…argh!" Whatever the man was about to say turned into a low growl as he spun back the way he came, rivulet of blood snaking down his right sleeve. A squad of Ryan security was rushing down the hall, bullets spraying wildly, twinkling flashes ricocheting off the stone walls and ceiling. Ignoring them, the man dashed into the hail of bullets, surviving miraculous without a single shot grazing his clothe, and fell on the Rapture thugs in a whirlwind of dagger, gutting and gorging deeper into the ranks of baying humanity.

"Time to go!" Eleanor hurled Elizabeth toward the door, both stumbling as they quickly ascended the rusty steps, the oversize boot making the task that much more difficult.

"Who the hell was that?!" Elizabeth managed after a moment.

"I don't know," Eleanor glanced back over her shoulder, "but…I thought he was trying to help us. I mean, if he'd wanted us dead then I doubt we would be alive right now."

"You want to go back and give skull face a chance to explain himself then?"

"On second thought, I rather we keep moving."

"Wise choice."

"Thank you." 

* * *

Splitting up is one of the worse cliché to ever existed. If the hundreds of horror movies was anything to go by, this is the moment everything starts going to shit. Yet here was Tangmo, running through a dimly lit corridor, a pump action Remington shotgun cradled in his arms, alone, with no one but his own shadow to keep him company. Granted, given the rather tight time constraint, it actually makes sense that they all split up. Elizabeth and Eleanor needed to be found, and it's not like the Eight were some nameless grunt either, all of them were an army in their own right. Still, wandering around with no sense of direction wasn't exactly appealing. Tangmo knew he should've asked Corvo for a map before heading out.

So lost within his own internal grumbling, Tangmo almost didn't hear the rising ruckus reverberating down the corridor in front of him. So, being the tactical genius that he is, Tangmo soundlessly sprinted toward the four way junction where the sound emanated and pressed himself flat against the wall right next to the bend. Tightening his grip on the shotgun, Tangmo waited until he could hear the animated chatter.

"Those two couldn't have gotten far," one said.

"Yeah, not in that condition," another added her comment.

"After, everything we did to them, who would've thought they got some spunk left?" This one chuckled.

Inhaling deeply, Tangmo waited until shadows were dancing across the opposite wall before darting into their path, shotgun held at the hip. They didn't saw him until he fired the second shot, and by then it was too late. The buckshot turned the two leading men into sizzling gibs as Tangmo dashed to the side and discharged five more rounds into the unguarded flank, hot leads tearing into the startled men and women, brilliant mist of hot scarlet exploding from ruptured bodies, painting the hall in vivid gleaming red. By the time Tangmo skidded to a stop, nothing remained alive in the corridor, only a few twitching bodies and a bucket load of gore. Stepping closer to admire his kill, Tangmo was surprise to find Daisy Fitzroy among the dead, splattered in viscera and unmoving.

God damn, that was anticlimactic as fuck.

Shaking his head, Tangmo came to stand over Daisy's corpse, shotgun held relaxed at his side. A real shame, he really did admired the Vox leader for her fight against Comstock, so dedicated in her cause that she would willingly sacrifice herself to see that her side won. Too bad her death and subsequent rebirth twisted her into something vile. Damn, she's actually pretty cute too, when not snarling threat and being mean that is.

"End of the line Fitzroy," Tangmo pumped his shotgun and aimed the barrel at her face. Hey, he had to be sure she's dead.

"Vae victis," Tangmo pulled the trigger and the shotgun clicked empty. Groaning, Tangmo was about to slide a new shell into the loader when a sharp, searing pain gored into his right leg.

"Fuck!" Tangmo leapt off his feet, back slamming against the wall as his leg folded under him. Tears blurring his vision, Tangmo's eyes went wide when he saw the Valyrian dagger he had given to Eleanor jutting out just below his knee.

"Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!" Tangmo was reaching for the dagger when he saw Daisy rising to her feet, limber and unharmed, a satisfied grin carved across her face.

"Hello again, Tangmo," Daisy stalked closer, wiping blood from her face, "missed me?"

Tangmo hefted up his shotgun and threw it at Daisy, who sidestepped it easily as he crawled toward one of the dead Vox, his fingers fumbling for the pistol at her belt. Just when he managed to unclasped the leather holster, the sole of Daisy boot stomped down on the pommel. Tangmo howled and writhed like a gutted fish as the blade slide deeper into his leg, grating painfully against his femur.

"You fucking bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Tangmo thrashed helplessly as Daisy planted her foot firmly on the dagger.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Daisy sneered.

"Fuck you!"

"Tempting," Daisy grabbed the dagger and wrenched it free from Tangmo's leg, the exploding white hot pain almost robbing him of consciousness. Vision swimming, Tangmo was trying to find his bearing when a revolver was pressed to his forehead.

"But unfortunately," Daisy knelt down beside him, pulling back the hammer, "I don't have the time."

Daisy was squeezing the trigger when Tangmo's left knee shot up and struck her hard in the side. The gun went off, the bullet narrowly missing his head by half an inch, Tangmo pushed himself off the ground with his good leg and rammed his shoulder into the coughing Daisy. The revolver flying from her grip, Tangmo speared Daisy through a door and sends them both crashing to the ground in a plume of splinters and dusts. Gathering his breath, Tangmo was propping himself on top of Daisy, fists reeled back for an old school UFC ground and pound when the Valyrian dagger flashed upward, the razor edge carving a bloody line across his chest, followed by a vicious kick that send him careening into a kitchen counter.

Screaming, Daisy lunge at Tangmo but he sidestepped the thrust and lashed out with a spinning elbow, the Muay Thai move send her sprawling with a satisfying smack, the Lannister weapon flying from her grip. Limping toward the downed Vox, Tangmo steadied himself on a derelict oven that Daisy was braced against and kicked her in the gut until he heard the wet snapping of cracked ribs and she was coughing up blood. Breathing hard, Tangmo was raising his leg for a curb stomp when Daisy sprang upward, grabbed his calf and pushed him off balance. Tangmo was bouncing on one foot when she gored him to the ground.

Stars shooting across his eyes, Tangmo tried to push Daisy off him when she raised a new, smaller knife high above her head. Like an idiot Tangmo held up his hand as the knife plunged down. He knew he fucked up the moment the straight blade went through his right palm, three inches of red coated steel punching out the other side. Tangmo surprise yell broke into a piercing scream as Daisy began pushing, pulling and yanking on the knife. Biting down the pain, Tangmo close his fingers around the blade, holding it in place as his free hand grabbed Daisy's wrist and slowly, painfully, pushed the gleaming knife out of his twitching palm, every retreating inch lighting his nerves aflame.

When his hand was finally free, Tangmo bend his good knee and kicked Daisy in the stomach, launching her across the room, the little knife clattering away somewhere between two counters. A hand and a leg busted, every movement sending fire rushing through his veins, Tangmo painstakingly pulled himself up to his feet and saw the Valyrian dagger laying not three paces away from him. Daisy saw it too, her eyes darting between Tangmo and the dagger before they both made a leap for it. Daisy was able to reach the Westerosi dagger first but Tangmo was on top of her a second later, both of them rolling across the ground in a mess of grappling hands and falling fists.

And once again Tangmo was flat on his back with Daisy straddling him, both their hands locked in a shaking vise around the dagger's grip, the tip hovering above his blood smeared chest, the Vox pushing downward, the commissar pushing upward. His strength waning, Tangmo angled the blade toward an empty spot beside his head then let his grip falter. The dagger hit the ground in a deafening clang, missing his ear by an hairbreadth. Daisy was about to raise the dagger again when Tangmo let go of the grip and latched his hands firmly on the Vox's right wrist and twist.

Squirming, Daisy let go of the Valyrian dagger and tried to pry Tangmo steely grip but he held firm, bending the limb downward until it yielded with a snap, the bone jutting awkwardly against white taut flesh, her hand folded at a grotesque angle. Daisy let out an earsplitting howl, but instead rolling off him like Tangmo had hoped, she barred her teeth with an animalistic snarl and dived into the nook of his shoulder, canines and incisors grinding his naked flesh. Now it was Tangmo squealing as Daisy growling maw latched on to him like a starving vampire, immovable no matter how hard he smacked her on the head. At least she missed his jugular. Still hurts like hell though.

When Daisy finally pulled back, bloody chunk of his skin dripping from her mouth, Tangmo landed a solid punch on her chin, sending the Vox tumbling face first to the ground. Not checking his injuries, Tangmo flopped on top of the dazed Daisy, his arms wrapping tight around her slender neck. Realizing her situation, Daisy quickly rose to her feet but Tangmo banked his body backward, sending them both tumbling into the wall, but he held firm as they slid back to the ground. Legs wrapping around her waist, Tangmo tightened the sleeper hold until he can hear Daisy choking for breath. Balling her left hand into a fist, Daisy began pounding Tangmo injured leg, every hammering strike sending torrent of agony across his body, his sleeper hold slipping.

That was when he noticed the dagger, so close, just a couple of inches away, well within reach his, but if he move for it Daisy was definitely going to squirm her ass free. Tossing caution to the wind, Tangmo reached over and snatched the snarling lion dagger. Against all odds, he managed to hold on to the writhing Daisy, angled the dagger toward himself like he was committing seppuku and thrust at the Vox lying flat on his chest.

Her good hand shot up and intercept the Valyrian dagger, but the flimsy gesture did little to deter its trajectory. Slowly but surely, the tip came to rest firmly over her left breast, easing deeper into her skin. Daisy desperate grip never faltered even when the blade parted her flesh, slid into the crevice between the ribs and pierced her heart. There was no scream, no shout, only a sharp gasp that sounded more surprise than hurt.

Not wasting time, Tangmo squeezed the grip and twist. Daisy Fitzroy shuddered and gasped wheezily before stilling, the full weight of her body falling on top of Tangmo, who let go of the dagger and took deep, heaving breath in relief. He sat there for about a minute before finally pushing Daisy off, but instead of discarding her aside like he did with most of the people he killed, Tangmo slowly, almost reverently, lowered the Vox to the ground, his touch gentle as a father would put his child to bed.

Closing her eyes and mouth, Tangmo carefully pulled the Valyrian dagger from Daisy's chest, cleaned the blood from the pristine blade and tucked it into his belt. He then placed both her palms, one atop the other, between her breasts, an image of a peaceful death.

"It's the least I can do," Tangmo sighed and gazed at Daisy Fitzroy unmoving form, finally at peace. The adrenaline haze passing, pain returning to rake his body, Tangmo let out a moan as he rise slowly. His hand hurt like a son of a bitch, his right leg has gone dead and his neck burned fiercely. He knew he should wait for someone to come and help his sorry ass but being the moron that he is, Tangmo limped into the corridor, picked up his shotgun, awkwardly reload the damn thing and, with drunken gait, stumbled down the hall. He still needed to find Elizabeth and Eleanor after all. 

* * *

"This way, hurry!" Eleanor dragged Elizabeth through the crisscrossing corridor, running as fast as their tired leg can carry them.

"I found them! Over here!" A guerilla announced, his companions whooping loudly as they rushed down the stone hallway, quickly catching up to the pair. Eleanor knew that in their current condition both her and Elizabeth couldn't flee, let alone fight their pursuer, but she wasn't about to go down without a fight. Panting, Eleanor turned another bend and skidded to a stop, Elizabeth slamming into her back. Four more Atlas's goon stood waiting, grinning ear to ear, cudgels and batons relax in their hands. Cursing under her breath, Eleanor spun around only to find the other group blocking their escape.

This was it then, captured again. Eleanor wanted to scream but knew better than to waste her breathe. Pushing Elizabeth behind her, Eleanor assumed what she thought was a competent fighting stance, both arms rising into a guard, her only reference regarding fists fighting coming from the movies she had seen. Judging by the hyena like laughter coming from the encircling guerrilla, she was doing a pretty bad job at looking intimidating.

"Don't come any closer!" Eleanor shouted at the tightening noose of people.

"Now ain't that cute?" One of the guerrillas laughed, slapping the black baton on his open palm in a slow, menacing rhythm. "I'm going to enjoy this, no fun kicking the shit out of you when you're all tied up."

"Oh hey, you found them!" A female British voice chirped up behind the man.

"Of course! Ain't that hard to begin with," the man was taking a single step toward Eleanor when his chest burst open in a blooming mist of red. Yelping, Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth and laid them both flat on the ground as gunfire tore through the air. The roar of bullets, the scream of the dying and the fleshy smack of ruptured flesh melding into a horrid melody that ended just as abruptly as it began. Ears ringing, Eleanor slowly poked her head above the carnage and saw a feminine figure looming over the smoking corpses, clad in a blue Napoleonic infantry uniform, a Sten gun in her hand.

"Laura?!" Eleanor sprang to her feet, tears welling at the edge of her eyes, elated to finally see a friendly face after so long.

"What? You were expecting Tangmo?" Laura gave her trademark snide comment but Eleanor didn't care, she leapt at the Englishwoman and wrapped her up in a powerful embrace, Elizabeth joining a second later, both bawling into her bosoms.

"What in the hell?!" Laura managed a squeak as she gazed down at Eleanor and Elizabeth teary eyes.

"It's so good to see you again," Elizabeth sniffed, a quivering smile on her face.

"I thought we were gonna be left here to die," Eleanor said between weeping gasp, joy and relief gushing out in torrents.

Expecting some scathing remarks, Eleanor was surprised when Laura returned the hug mightily, giving her and Elizabeth soothing taps on the back.

"I never leave my mates behind," Laura voice was soft and warm, a complete contrast to her usual mean demeanor, "I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner."

"It's okay," Elizabeth dislodged herself from Laura, Eleanor lingered a few moments more before following suit, "you're here now."

"Right," Laura nodded appreciatively, "now enough of this mushy shite, we still got a long way to go."

And the same old Scotswoman returned, all in all, Eleanor found the sight to be both endearing and reassuring.

"Are the others here?" Elizabeth asked as they followed Laura down the corridor.

"Yeah," Laura took a right, "we're spread out all over the place. Tangmo, Henry, Damien, Lita and Erik are looking for you two, while Yuki and Nikki are keeping Columbia's syphon up and running."

"Wait, there's a syphon running?" Eleanor spoke up. "Shouldn't you guys be destroying that?"

"And let that copycat bitch escape again? Not a bloody chance, we're gonna end it right here, right now. We got the whole island surrounded, she's not going anywhere but the firing line."

"We're on an island?" Elizabeth perked up.

"Empress Emily Kaldwin of Dunwall has besieged Kingsparrow fortress to take care of the Rapture and Columbia menace, we tagged along with her," Laura glanced over at Eleanor and Elizabeth then, a brow irking upward. "Huh."

"Huh what?" Elizabeth asked.

"Constants and Variables," Laura smirked as she pushed open a double door and led them into a wide cargo bay, the place littered with mangled remains of splicers, Vox and Founders. The Englishwoman wasn't kind to her adversary.

"Okay, if I guess correctly," Laura began, "the beachhead should be secure by now; it's just on the other side of that corridor over there. I can leave you guys with Emily until we…"

Her sentence trailed as she lifted her fist suddenly, listening intently to the silent, unmoving surrounding.

"What is it?" Eleanor voice dropped to a whisper.

"I thought I heard…" a loud thump interrupted Laura, followed by a broken, whistling tune punctured by mechanical grinding and hissing steam. The stomping grew louder, more pronounced, rumbling from the other side of the cargo bay.

"Hide," Laura slammed a new magazine into her Sten, the footfall suddenly stopping. "Hide!"

With an inhuman shriek a large gate flew off its hinges in a flurry of dusts and splinters, the two partitions cartwheeling across the floor, crashing into creates and wagon in a deafening crash.

"Fuck me, didn't we killed you already?!" Laura cursed as a lumbering shape stormed into the cargo hold, hunched and limping with every step it took, a grotesque abomination of nightmarish amalgamated machinery. It's wings clipped to a stub, armors corroded and patched up in haphazard fashion, body bent low and crooked, limbs twisted at an awkward angle, Songbird looked like a monster straight out of a Mary Shelley's novel, nothing of the majestic birdman remained.

But the deformity did little to impede its movement. With a screeching war cry, Songbird bounded toward them, hands swathing left and right as it sends crates and wagon flying out of the way, unheeding of the bullets peppering it.

"Shit! Get the fuck out of here! Go!" Laura yelled and rushed to meet Songbird, firing from the hip. Giving an annoyed cackle, Songbird bulled toward Laura and slapped the Englishwoman aside, sending her barreling into a pile of wooden crates.

"This way!" Eleanor grabbed Elizabeth wrist and pulled her toward the corridor when a large, train like wagon careened over their head and slammed into the open archway, the twisted mass of broken metal collapsing their escape in a jarring crash of iron, stone and wood. There was barely anytime to react as Songbird leapt at them, talon hand outstretched, but Eleanor and Elizabeth dashed away at the last second, the birdman stumbling pass and ramming into a wall.

"Over here!" Eleanor led Elizabeth into a maze of neck high boxes, carts and wagons, hoping to loose Elizabeth's former protector within the tight confines. Songbird however, simply rampaged his way through the meticulous rows and files like an all-consuming tsunami. Thankfully, Songbird doesn't seem to know where they were, his two angry red eyes darted this way and that, searching for them. As quietly as she could manage, Eleanor led Elizabeth behind a sturdy looking wagon and pressed themselves flat against it, waiting in muted trepidation as the sound of cracking wood and groaning iron drew nearer with every passing seconds.

Songbird shrieked then, a horrid melding of an avian call and shattered humanity, pain and anger clear in its voice as the nearing destruction veered away from the two. Gulping, Eleanor and Elizabeth peeked over the side of the wagon to see Songbird staggering blindly across the loading yard, a long pole lanced through his head, his eyes now nothing but a dull, shattered orbs. Letting out a slew of Scottish tinged curses, Laura walked into view, her uniform disheveled and covered in dust but she was otherwise unharmed. In her hand was a belt with twelve grenades dangling from looping harnesses. Quickening her pace, Laura dashed toward the dazed Songbird, easily dodging his swiping hands this time, pulled the grenade pins, leapt up the birdman by using his limbs as footholds and looped the belt around its neck. Jumping clear of the unknowing Songbird, Laura threw herself over a crate just as the explosive went off with an earsplitting boom. In an almost comical display, the headless Songbird took two drunken steps forward before falling face first to the ground, well, in that direction anyway since everything above his neck was gone. Laughing, Laura emerged from her cover, extremely pleased with her handy work, and Eleanor couldn't help but agree.

"Oi! Elizabeth, Eleanor, let's…"

A gunshot rang out and Laura collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from her ruined kneecap.

"You motherfuck…!" Laura swung up her Sten but three more shot rang out, each hitting the Brits with deadly precision, one in her hip, one in her arm and one in her shoulder. Roaring like an injured beast, Laura writhe in pain, trying to lift her gun as Sofia and Columbia emerged from behind a tower of crates. Sofia kicked the Sten out of Laura reach and planted the stiletto of her heel on the Scotswoman injured arm, she screamed and thrashed as Columbia approached Songbird corpse. Columbia looked about ready to cry, but when Eleanor thought tear was about to be shed, the doppelgänger spun sharply on Laura, murder in her eyes.

"Get her up," Sofia obeyed Columbia's seething command and hefted Laura up by the collar of her uniform until she was kneeling before the two women.

"Where are they?" Columbia demanded, slapping Laura hard across the face when no answer came. "Tell me!"

"Piss off," Laura spat blood at her foot.

Columbia struck her a few more times before composing herself, her eyes sweeping across the cargo bay.

"They're still here," Columbia hissed, then straightened her back and raised her voice, "I know you two are hiding somewhere, show yourself!"

"Don't you dare surrender! Get out of here!" Laura yelled was rewarded with a vicious backhand. Eleanor flinched, trading fearful glance with an equally frightened Elizabeth, but neither moved an inch.

"That's how you want to do it? Fine." Columbia strode over to a nearby toolbox and pulled something out. "Tell me if you've seen this before, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth gasped when she saw the red object in Columbia's hand. A wrench. Like the one Atlas had used to murder her back in Rapture.

"You are right about one thing, my dear Elizabeth," Columbia pointedly looked in their direction but made no inclination to approach, "I'm not in the same league as Atlas when it comes to acting. However, I believe I possess the same homerun swing he has, as your friend here is about to find out."

Columbia waved the wrench at Laura, "hold her still please Sofia."

Her mother did as instructed, her hands latching firmly on the collar of Laura uniform, forcing her to look up at the doppelgänger.

"Call to them," Columbia point the wrench at the Englishwoman like a sword.

"Shove it up your flaccid cunt, you fucking wanker," Laura hissed as Columbia brought the wrench squarely down on her head with a sickening crack. Laura sagged but was kept upright by Sofia iron like grip, holding her up like a puppy dangling from the scruff of its neck. When did mother become so strong?

"You took it like a trooper, my dear!" Columbia crooned at Laura. "Now why don't you be a nice little girl, and tell me where your friends are?"

"Fuck…you…"

"I was hoping you would say that."

The wrench came down again, and again, splatter of blood trailing every swing as Laura's defiance grew weaker with every hit, the clank of metal on skull echoed across the empty cargo hold as hot tear rolled down Eleanor's cheeks, the unfolding brutality destroying her resolve to flee, to leave another person in the hands of the demented Columbia. Beside her Elizabeth clasped her hands tight over her ears; eyes scrunched shut as she wept openly.

"Last chance," Columbia swiped sheen of sweat from her brow, glaring at Laura bloodied, ruined visage with unhidden satisfaction, "where are they?"

A slurred laughter parted Laura battered lips, a hoarse, wretched sounding thing that spoke louder than any verbal declaration can hope to accomplish. Eleanor can't help but be touched by Laura unwavering dedication to protect them, but this had to stop. Columbia was raising the bloody wrench when she and Elizabeth bolted from their hiding place and shouted:

"We give up! Let her go!"

Smiling sweetly, Columbia twirled around to greet them, her black dress making a dramatic flourish.

"Obedient as ever," Columbia smirked and swung the wrench at the barely conscious Laura across the temple, sending her crashing to the ground where she went still.

"Laura!" Eleanor made to rush for the downed Scotswoman, but the clicking of mother's Luger stopped her.

"Hmph! The blasted syphon is still on," Columbia snapped her fingers a few time and threw the red smeared wrench away, "but I think we kept you both alive long enough. So without any further ado, Sofia if you please."

Expecting Sofia to point the gun at them, Eleanor could only watch in confusion as mother raised her free hand, a strange kaleidoscopic ball of light coalescing in the center of her palm. A migraine of the most unimaginable kind struck Eleanor, the mental hammer blow sending her to her knees. She screamed, hands clutching both side of her head, fighting vainly against the needling pain.

"Stop it!" Eleanor shrieked when the crushing vise loosened, the world a painful pulsing blur as she tried to focus on her surroundings. Staggering to her feet, she saw Sofia approaching, the handle of the gun held toward her. Before Eleanor can question the peculiar gesture, her hand reached out and took the Luger, muscles and bones moving absent her command, fingers coiling around the grip and trigger.

"No…" Eleanor stared in horror as her arm moved on its own, the barrel of the Luger rising slowly, tantalizingly up the side of her head before coming to rest on her temple. "No!"

"I found it poetic that a daughter and her beloved father should be reunited in the same manner," Sofia said crisply, "and this time, there will be no Vita chamber to bring you back to life."

Eleanor could only whimper as her thump pulled down the hammer, index finger squeezing the trigger.

"But…" Sofia waved her hand and the cold pressure disappeared from Eleanor's head, the Luger swung away in a wide arch until it was honed on the stunned Elizabeth. "I believe this would be more interesting."

"No, no, no! Elizabeth run!" Eleanor shouted the same time a loud bang rented the air.

"No!" Lucidity rushing back, Eleanor blinked and saw Elizabeth down on her knees, ducking, arms raised to cover her head. Flexing her hand, Eleanor found that she was free of the hypnosis plasmid. Turning, she saw Sofia on her knees, sharp breath hissing through gritted teeth, dark rivulet seeping through fingers clutching her arm.

"What the hell?!" Columbia gave a startled yelp and dashed into a pile of crates, the ground where she had stood a second before exploding into pieces of gravels and dust, the boom of gunfire ringing across the cargo bay. Glancing toward where the sound emanated, Eleanor saw Tangmo leaning weakly against a rusty iron beam, ghostly pale and drenched in blood, his movement lethargic as he gave his shotgun a one handed pump.

"Get out of here!" He managed to shout the moment Sofia blindsided her with a punch, sending her tumbling to the ground. Vision ringing, Eleanor saw Sofia picking up the Luger just as Elizabeth leapt at her, clawing hands scrambling to wrench the gun away from the psychiatrist. After a brief scuffle, Sofia managed to pistol whipped Elizabeth across the face, knocking the brunette out cold. Springing back to her feet, Eleanor dashed at Sofia and tackled her to the ground. Grabbing the Luger, both Eleanor and Sofia rolled across the ground as both fought for purchase on the gun, mother and daughter locked in an embrace that will see one of them dead. 

* * *

"Goddamn it Eleanor, get off your mom so I can shoot the bitch," Tangmo hissed as he braced the shotgun on his dead arm, the barrel trained on the Lamb. Jesus Christ, everything hurts, especially the bite on his neck. It was sheer luck that he managed to find them without running into anybody else along the way. Head buzzing and eyelids heavy, Tangmo briskly shook away the creeping drowsiness and took in the scene before him. Laura laid face down the ground nearby, red splattered the mob of her curly brown hair, back rising weakly, Sofia and Columbia really did a number on her. Yuki would probably go berserk if she was here. Nearby, Elizabeth groaned as she tried to rise after getting boxed, quite hard he saw, in the head by Sofia.

Eleanor was straddling Sofia now, great, he can't get a clear shot from that angle even on his best day. Lowering his gun, Tangmo had to steady himself from the unceasing pain coursing through his veins, something as simple as standing was already becoming more taxing than running a marathon. Sofia was back on top now, good, Tangmo hefted up his shotgun and took aim when a pop, not that dissimilar to a Songkran firecracker, sounded behind him. He swayed, gun slipping from his suddenly unresponsive hand as he flopped face fist to the floor.

Grunting, Tangmo rolled on to his back and saw Columbia with a smoking double-barrel Derringer gun looming above him.

"Hopefully this will shut you up for good," Columbia sneered and pulled the trigger. The bullet went into his stomach, shredding his intestines and everything else around it into a mass of bleeding ruptured meat, a slow kill, not like a shot to the head or heart, and that really sucks.

"Maybe you'll live long enough to see me gut your precious lambs," Columbia disappeared from his vision as everything faded to black. 

* * *

"You…" Sofia grunted as she slowly angled the Luger down toward Eleanor face, "will always be my most poignant success and failure."

"Mother please!" Eleanor begged, her grip shaking on the cold pistol, "I'm your daughter, don't do this!"

"The same daughter that locked me away to be forgotten in an asylum."

"Please!"

"I should never have brought you into this world, but at least I have been given the chance to take you out of it."

"No!"

Squirming, Eleanor bucked her hip and was able to throw Sofia off balance. Seizing the moment, Eleanor wrenched hard to the side and threw Sofia to the ground, sending them into another roll across the floor. Fumbling, Eleanor somehow managed to pry the Luger from Sofia grip, the gun held firmly in her hands as mother propped herself on top of her again.

"Please…" tears cascaded down her cheek, quivering finger slowly squeezing the trigger, "don't make me do this…please…"

"You were always weak," Sofia growled, unaware that the barrel was now pressed firmly over her heart.

"Please!"

"That is why you and Elizabeth will die."

A shot rang out and Sofia eyes went wide, unbelieving of what just happened, her flabbergasted gaze locking with Eleanor's weeping own. Stumbling off Eleanor, Sofia took one step backward before falling flat on her bottom, shaking hands clutching heaving chest, scarlet staining her white blouse as she fell to the side, dead before her head bounced off the ground.

Eleanor stared at her mother's corpse for a heartbeat before screaming out her anguish, Luger slipping from numbed fingers, tears streaking down her face as she wept for the loss of her last family member.

"Eleanor," a hand came to rest on her shoulder, warm and caring. Glancing up, she saw Elizabeth standing above her, a worried but kindly frown creasing her blood smeared face.

"I killed her," Eleanor bawled. "My own mother…I killed her."

"You didn't have a choice," Elizabeth knelt down and pulled her into a hug, "it was either you or her."

"She was still my mother," Eleanor leaned into Elizabeth, "I should have found a better way…I should have been able to save her."

Elizabeth said nothing but continued to hold her, rocking back and forth like a mother calming down her frightened child. Slowly, arms still wrapped tight around her, Elizabeth pulled Eleanor up into a standing position, before leading her away from the lifeless Sofia.

"We still have to get out of here and find some help for Laura and Tangmo," Elizabeth said, "can you walk?"

"Yes," Eleanor nodded, sniffing as the last of her tear dried, "let's go."

They were taking their first step when something slammed into Eleanor's back, twice, the sudden jolt sending her staggering forward, she would have fallen if it wasn't for Elizabeth holding her up. She tried to speak, but found blood gagging her mouth, rising up her throat like bile. There was no pain, just the horrid chill that slowly drains every drop of life from her. She gazed up at Elizabeth stricken face and, knowing what was coming, wept. 

* * *

"Eleanor!" Elizabeth screamed, unable to do anything as Eleanor began coughing blood, her body growing cold and limp. "No, no, no! Eleanor!"

Elizabeth tried to lift Eleanor off the ground, but her own failing strength rendered the task moot. Still, she tried to carry her away.

"Don't you dare give up," Elizabeth gritted her teeth, "do you hear me?! Don't you dare give up on me!"

"Oh, don't bother." Columbia approached them at a leisurely stroll, reloading a small palm size gun. "The both of you are about to meet God anyway. Well, she is at least, because you're coming with me."

Laying the spasming Eleanor gently to the ground, Elizabeth glared at the doppelgänger and, with a roar, charged the woman, hands held out to tear her throat open. The gun flashed twice, pain shot across her abdomen and chest, but Elizabeth ignored them and tackled the shocked Columbia to the ground. Rolling across the floor, Elizabeth managed to prop herself atop Columbia and began pummeling her face, pouring every ounce of fury, indignation and hatred into each punch. Never one for physical activity, Elizabeth was surprised by the power behind her fists, every blow whipping Columbia's head left and right, blood and bruises cracking the doppelgänger porcelain perfect visage. Blindly, Elizabeth continued to hammer Columbia's face, but soon her sudden burst of energy waned and the doppelgänger used that moment to lash back.

Yanking her on her hair, Columbia threw Elizabeth to the side and quickly scrambled on top of her, grabbed her head and slammed it hard on the floor. Stars burst across Elizabeth vision as Columbia lifted her head and brought it back down on the concrete floor again with equal, if not greater, force, repeating the motion five more time until the back of her skull felt soft and wet. Her eyes refusing to focus, Elizabeth didn't see Columbia's hands latching down on her neck, only realizing the constriction when painful suffocation ignited her senses.

Choking, Elizabeth clawed desperately at Columbia snarling face, but the grip never lost its hold. Hands darting out to the side, Elizabeth desperately reached for anything that could be used against Columbia. Just when darkness was moment from claiming her, Elizabeth questing fingers wrapped itself around something hard. Hand coiling around the metallic object, Elizabeth swung it upward and the crushing pressure on her neck disappeared. Inhaling warm, piercing air, Elizabeth gazed at the object in her hand. A bloody wrench, the same one Columbia had used on Laura. Irony can be so twisted sometime, what had killed her was now going to save her.

Staggering to her feet, Elizabeth stalked toward the downed Columbia, the wrench shaking in her grip, sickened by what she was about to do. Steeling her own disgust, Elizabeth came to stand above Columbia, the wrench held high above her head when the doppelgänger rolled on to her back and fired her little gun twice, one bullet went into her shoulder, the other punching into her chest.

Coughing up blood, Elizabeth fell to the ground and backpedaled away from the rising Columbia, the doppelgänger taking her time as she inserted two more bullets into the gun. Unable to rise, her legs getting weaker by the seconds, Elizabeth began crawling away and found herself scooting up next to Eleanor, the girl was alive but barely.

"A bullet for each of you," Columbia crooned, her footfall drawing closer, "this should be quick."

Dragging herself across the cold floor, blood pooling around her, Elizabeth saw the Luger Eleanor had used to kill Sofia laying just within reach. Plopping her near useless body toward it, Elizabeth took the gun, rounded on Columbia and pulled the trigger without even aiming. The shot struck true, Columbia howled as she dropped to her knees, breath coming in haggard rasp as she clutch her bleeding stomach. Seething, Columbia let out an animalistic growl and was raising her gun when Elizabeth shot the doppelgänger again, this time the bullet went in between her eyes. And just like that she died, toppling over like a felled tree, no burst of energy, no fiery declaration, just a limp body crumbling to the ground.

Elizabeth let out a breath she was holding, glad that it was finally over, no matter how anti-climactic the conclusion. Unable to keep herself upright any longer, Elizabeth leaned back until she was flat on her back, the pain slowly numbing as blood continued to trickle from her body. A weak moan drew her gaze to the side and she found Eleanor in the same wretched state as she was, pale and waiting for death.

"Did we win?" Eleanor managed.

"Yeah," Elizabeth croaked.

"…We gave it our best shot, didn't we?"

"That we did."

With great effort, Eleanor stretched her bloody hand toward Elizabeth, who then reached out and took it into her own, slick shivering fingers intertwining. Even then, both their grips were faltering and cool to the touch, both trying to cling to each other in this last moment of life.

"I'm scared," Eleanor voice was barely a whisper.

"Me too," Elizabeth sniffed, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, death can be pretty scary. Nobody really get used to it."

Elizabeth would have jumped if she had the energy, but all she could manage was to roll her eyes toward the person who had just spoken. It was the pale girl from before, the one that was in the torture room. Great, her pre mortem delirium had conjured the illusion again.

"Who…who are you?" Elizabeth looked and Eleanor, startled, she could see the apparition too?

"Please…" Eleanor continued, "help us."

"Calm down, I'm here for them, not you two," the girl said conversationally and waved toward the dead Sofia and Columbia. "Just close your eyes now, everything is going to be alright."

"Help…" now it was Elizabeth speaking.

"Is on the way," the girl laid a gentle, but ice like hand on her forehead, " now. Sleep."

And she did. The pain, the ache, the coldness of her body, the hot blood around her, everything faded to emptiness until all that remain was a tranquil, undisturbed darkness.


	25. A Dawn to a New Beginning

Warmth. The snuggle, pleasant feeling was the first thing Elizabeth felt when the black gulf of infinity begin its retreat. Next came the sound of gentle surf caressing the shore, melodious and soothing, then the fresh scent of the sea, salty and refreshing unlike the rusted dying miasma that was Rapture. Light pierced her closed eyelids, the bright spectrum banishing her sleep.

Groaning into the soft pillow, Elizabeth eyes fluttered open to see a large high ceiling room, crisscrossing beam of brown wood made a pleasant geometric pattern above, beautiful in design and not overly crowded. Turning her head, Elizabeth saw that the stone white wall were lined with tall windows, fresh summer breeze flowed into the room, brushing gently against her cheeks. She was nestled inside a velvety white blanket on a queen size bed, the wispy fabric almost translucent, thick enough to ward off the chill but not so stuffy to make her sweat.

Blinking away that last residue of her sleep, Elizabeth slowly swung herself off the bed, the aches and sores from her ordeal now nothing but weak buzzes moments from dissipating. The gray marble floor cool on her bare feet, Elizabeth stood up slowly, legs wobbling like a newborn who had just learned how to walk. There was an identical bed next to her own, and upon seeing who was sleeping on it, Elizabeth bolted toward the person curled inside the rumbled mass of blanket, stumbling in her haste and colliding into the soft duvet.

Eleanor woke with a startled yelp, head darting left and right for the source of the disturbance.

"Elizabeth?!" Eleanor squeaked once she saw Elizabeth leaning on the bed.

"Hi," Elizabeth managed when Eleanor leapt at her, arms wrapped tight in a powerful embrace, shuddering sobs overtaking the two lambs.

"You're alive…" Elizabeth words were slurred by weeping joy.

"So are you," Eleanor squeezed her mightily, "we survived…"

"Why do you always have to me make worry so much?" Elizabeth pulled away, making a halfhearted crossed face.

"The look on your face was worth it," Eleanor smiled and wiped her eyes.

Laughing away the last of her tears, Elizabeth glanced around the room, taking in the pristine and welcoming environment. A richly carved granite topped bed stand stood between the two beds, a large mahogany closet sat in one corner of the room, a sitting area complete with a sofa and two couches positioned around a coffee table was set in front of a flat television hanging from the wall, and not far off to their right was a balcony with two seats facing a perfect cerulean sky.

"This place is really nice," Elizabeth helped Eleanor off the bed, "can you stand?"

"Of course," Eleanor took a few steps before stopping, her posture rigid, face suddenly stern.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth came to her side, "Eleanor?"

Breath held, Eleanor slowly raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Bright hot fire blazed between her thumb and forefinger, the flame dancing vividly before engulfing her entire hand.

"My power's back!" Eleanor squealed and made to jump at Elizabeth.

"Power down! Power down!" Elizabeth squeaked, backing away from the flaring heat.

"Oh! Sorry!" Eleanor extinguished the chemical fire with a sheepish grin then threw her arms around Elizabeth, both jumping with joy.

"What about you're power?" Eleanor pulled away after a moment. "Can you feel the Tears?"

"…Yes! I can feel them, but there isn't any around here though," Elizabeth replied giddily, the soft hum of power filling her with indescribable reassurance and elation, knowing that she was no longer powerless. Elizabeth was bouncing on her toes when her gaze fell on the beaming Eleanor, a grin carving up her lips.

"That's a good look on you," Elizabeth failed completely to hide her snickers.

"Huh?" Eleanor glanced down and froze in abject terror, burning red flushed across her face. "Oh come on, really?"

Giggling, Elizabeth watched as Eleanor fidgeted with her pink sleeping dress, the flowing garment rippling just below her knees. Elizabeth was dressed in the same manner, but instead of a sickeningly girlish pink her color was that of soft cream.

"Aww, don't pout Eleanor," Elizabeth grinned, "you look terrific."

"That's not funny Elizabeth," Eleanor frowned, sullen eyes cast downward, "I know I don't look good in a dress…"

Gasping, Elizabeth closed their distant and laid a comforting hand on Eleanor's slump shoulder.

"Oh Eleanor, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Elizabeth apologized, "I was only kidding around."

"It's alright Elizabeth," Eleanor said gloomily, "I know I look and act like a boy, the good people of Mercy Fall made that abundantly clear when they thought I wasn't listening. I must look like a mule in a gown, good for a few laughs but no one will ever ask me for a dance."

"Eleanor, stop it," Elizabeth said sternly, "you are a very beautiful woman; don't let anybody else say otherwise."

"You're just saying that…" Eleanor pouted.

"No, I'm not," Elizabeth continued adamantly. "Sure, sometime you act and dress like a tomboy, but no matter what you do, you're still a beautiful, smart and very talented girl."

"Well…" finally, a smile graced Eleanor's lip, "I am pretty great."

"Smarter and more talented than me, that's for sure."

Eleanor flinched from the comment as if struck, wide eyes fixed on Elizabeth, whose smiles began to thin.

"Wait…" Eleanor managed after a few flabbergasted seconds, "…what?"

"I'll admit," Elizabeth voice was heavy with melancholy, "I was pretty jealous of you."

"Now I know you're joking," Eleanor lifted an unconvinced brow.

"I'm not!" Elizabeth blurted. "You're everything that I could never be. Smart, confident, resourceful, fearless …"

"All of those things can just as easily be applied to you."

"For everything that I've learned, I couldn't even use any of it to save my own skin. I'm a failure, doomed by my own hubris and naivety, a stupid pretty face that squandered her power in a petty pursue of vengeance. The only thing I ever accomplished was getting myself killed."

"Don't you dare say that," Eleanor words were iron as she drew Elizabeth into a firm hug, "Don't you dare."

"I'm nothing but a dead weight," Elizabeth was sniffing now, face planted into Eleanor's shoulder to hide her tears, "it was because of me we got caught. It was because of me that we had to suffer so much…"

"You know how many times I would've died if it wasn't for you?" Eleanor pulled away until their eyes met. "You know how much I wanted to give up? To just stop breathing? But seeing you so defiant after the worse has been done…you gave me the strength to endure no matter what comes. You're braver than you give yourself credit for."

"What can I say?" Elizabeth can feel the gloom lifting. "I'm pretty stubborn."

"You're not the only one," Eleanor gave her a half-hearted chastising look, "now don't you go about belittling yourself like that again, you hear me?"

"Only if you don't beat yourself up over nothing."

"Deal."

They gave each other a quick hug before jumping back, Elizabeth taking the opportunity to truly assess Eleanor breezy attire.

"In all seriousness though," Elizabeth stroke her chin, "you look really good in that dress."

"Thanks," Eleanor gave herself a quick twirl, "you don't look too shabby yourself."

"Well, I am the pretty one of the pair."

"I find it very amicable that you found the attire to your liking."

Elizabeth and Eleanor leapt off their feet with a squeal, eyes sweeping the empty room with frantic haste. The new voice, male, unseen, and carrying an echoing resonance, reminded Elizabeth of the unpleasant trek she and Eleanor endured through the bowels of Mars City.

"Do not be afraid, little ones," the disembodied voice was heavenly, but that didn't put Elizabeth at ease.

"Who are you?" Eleanor demanded, eager to unleash her restored plasmids.

"I am all things," it said reverently, "the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega, the ashes and the dusts."

Elizabeth and Eleanor traded looks of alarm, both scooting closer to each other. Whatever this thing was it had a God complex, a trait both of them had seen enough to last several lifetimes.

"We don't want any trouble," Elizabeth said slowly, searching for any Tear she can use.

"No trouble at all," the rumbling timbre was kindly, "you have nothing to fear from…"

"Albert, what are you doing?"

A new, also disembodied, female voice interrupted the booming announcer, her very mundane tone and accent a stark contrast to the man angelic resonance.

"Oh hey! You two are awake," she said pleasantly, but Elizabeth was far from placated by the strange scene unfolding before her.

"I was conversing with our two guests," the male spoke.

"Why do you sound like that?" There was clear annoyance in the female question.

"It is normal to tremble before a being of such magnanimous glory such as myself."

"You know what? I was going to ask you nicely to cut that out, but you force me to do this."

"What are you doing? Wait! Mary! Stop! Don't do that!"

The resounding divinity gave a static splutter before changing mid-pleading, becoming that of a boyish youth, similar in tenor to the female.

"Come on Mary, I was just having a bit of fun with them," the male voice, Albert, gave his sheepish defense.

"And your idea of a joke is pretending to be God right after they woke up from a coma," Elizabeth could almost see the female voice, Mary, shaking her head in exasperation, "do I need to put you through another diagnostic session?"

"We weren't scared," Eleanor spoke up, her posture relaxing, "just a little alarm, that's all."

"You said we were in a coma," Elizabeth asked, "how long were we out?"

"Well…I wouldn't call it a coma, more like a deep sleep you get after a very long surgery. You two were pretty banged up when the Master brought you here, eighteen hours of surgery to get the bullets out and twenty-four more in the healing tank. I'm actually pretty impressed the both of you are up and about after only three days."

"Three days…" Elizabeth was actually kind of surprised, the sleep felt like an eternity.

"Look, I don't want to be rude but…" Eleanor cut in, "who, or what, exactly are you?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, where are my manners, my name is Mary, and the joker here is Albert," the voice introduced herself and her friend, "we're AI programmed by Lita and Damien."

"AI?"

"Artificial intelligence. We're machine capable of complex thinking and can perform any task as well, if not better, than human. Basically, anything the Eight are too lazy to do, we're the one doing it…yeah."

"Oh, so you're like the Thinker back in Rapture," Elizabeth chirped up.

"Exactly," Albert now spoke, "but we're like, light years more advance than that ancient thing. We're more like Glados and Shodan."

"Minus the evil," Mary added quickly.

"Minus the evil, right."

Nobody said anything after that, and for the minutes that follows a less than comfortable silence came over the room. Elizabeth and Eleanor gave each other cautious glance, not really knowing how to proceed in the presence of two artificial intelligence, while Albert and Mary were…doing whatever it is they were doing.

"Okay…this is getting awkward," Mary spoke up, "we'll leave you two alone then. Feel free to check the place out, the others should be up and about by now. Come on Albert, we have some system to check."

"Wait," Elizabeth called out, "who's here with us?"

"Tangmo, Laura and Yuki," Albert said, "got roughed up pretty bad too. Well, Tangmo and Laura that is, Yuki's taking care of them. They just woke up yesterday, you guys can drop by and say hello if you want."

"Will do," Elizabeth nodded, glad to hear that the Eight were okay.

"See ya around!" Albert announced happily and it took Elizabeth several more seconds to be sure that the two AI were no longer in the room.

"Well, that was a weird distraction," Elizabeth chuckled and made for the door, waving for Eleanor to follow, "come on, let's go find the other."

"Yeah, let's," Eleanor said enthusiastically.

"It will be so good to see Tangmo again, right Eleanor?" Elizabeth grinned devilishly as she glanced back at the suddenly red Eleanor.

"That's not it!" Eleanor blurted, hands suddenly running down her dress in nervous strokes. "I mean, yeah, it would be good to see Tangmo again but I'm more worried about Laura. I'm actually surprised she survived at all."

"I know what you mean," Elizabeth grimaced at the memory, "but what happened to Tangmo? I saw him shot Sofia but then he was just gone."

"I thought I saw Columbia shot him," Eleanor said as they traversed the curved corridor of the abode, the smoothened stone wall was lined on both sides with tropical flowers in earthy brown vases and framed pictures, depicting one or more of the Eight in various situations and places. In one frame Lita was smiling at the camera, holding up a V sign with both hands, a majestic white tower looming behind her. Another was a grimy photograph of Tangmo in his commissar coat, facing the photographer, standing amongst grim faced men and women wielding arrays of deadly futuristic looking weapons. So many memories captured in frozen eternity, from the most fantastical to the most mundane, the Eight truly have a lot of tales to tell.

Elizabeth was beginning to wonder where the three could be when a very loud and lively conversation drifted down the hall. Following the animated banter, Elizabeth came to an open archway that leads into a large circular communal room. Bathed in warm summer light, the interior consisted of a comfy crescent couch that dominated the center of the room, a cold fireplace and a very large, flat television fixed into the wall above it. Tangmo, Laura and Yuki, looking blessedly healthy, were enraptured by the combat sport playing out on the screen.

"You're awake!" Tangmo was the first to notice them, the boy leaping off the couch with the biggest smile she had ever seen. And admittedly, quite handsome too.

"Holy hell, we were starting to get worry," Tangmo spread his arms wide to embrace them both, but composed himself with a bashful cough at the last seconds and extended his hand politely instead, his complexion that of a ripe tomato. "I mean, it's really good to see you up and about."

"Oh Tangmo," Elizabeth chuckled and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely, "it's so good to see you again."

"Um…yes…very good," Tangmo stuttered and return the embrace with some reservation, all the while Yuki and Laura just laughed at his stiff reaction. Breaking off the hug, Tangmo did his best to calm himself. The effort not entirely successful, his steps were jittery and a more than appropriate amount of scarlet adorned his face as he approached the giggling but equally bashful Eleanor. Both stood before each other, eyes wandering everywhere but the person standing in front of them.

"Oh, what the hell," Tangmo gave a shrug and scooped the yelping Eleanor into a powerful hug, her stricken cry becoming a full-blown laughter in a heartbeat. The sudden, and quiet scandalous, contact banishing what reservation they had for one another.

"That's one way to break the ice," Eleanor giggled as Tangmo lowered her to the ground.

"Glad you liked it, usually I get a slap for doing that," Tangmo chuckled, but went silent when he saw Eleanor's attire, "whoa…"

"I know, I know," Eleanor began wringing the hem of her dress, "I look silly."

"That's not the word that comes to mind," Tangmo said slowly, "you look really nice."

"I do?" Eleanor perked up.

"Yeah. I mean, I've always imagined you to be a pants kinda girl, but now that you're wearing a dress," Tangmo gave her two thumb ups, "you're really rocking it."

"Thanks," Eleanor smiled coyly when Elizabeth gave her a friendly nudge in the side.

"Told you so," Elizabeth winked.

"Personally, I think the clothe is a little dated," Laura now strode up to them, Yuki at her side "but yeah, you two actually look pretty good."

"Want any fashion tip from the 21st century, just hook me up," Yuki added.

Before Elizabeth can respond, Laura swept her up in other session of hugs, while Yuki was doing the same with Eleanor, after a few seconds of lungs crushing squeeze the English and Japanese swap places like a ballroom dance.

"I'm so glad that you're okay," Eleanor said as she dislodged herself from Laura, "I thought Columbia killed you."

"Ha! That little cunt can't swing for shit," Laura laughed, "oh sure, it hurts, but there's no way she can kill me."

"Too bad she died before I got there," Yuki growled lowly, her face darkening by several dimensions, "if I'd gotten my hands on that bitch I'll…"

"Yuki, love, calm down," Laura drew Yuki tight into her arms and, to the surprise of Elizabeth and Eleanor, gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, "she's dead, you don't need to worry yourself about it."

"But she nearly killed you," Yuki gazed into Laura's rich brown eyes.

"Nearly, I'm alright now, see?"

"But you were half dead when I found you," Yuki snuggled deeper into Laura's bosom, "seeing you like that…it's hard you know?"

"I know love, I know."

Elizabeth glanced at Tangmo, waiting for the boy to make some scathing remarks on Yuki and Laura very blatant show of affection. None came as he gave her a blank, nonchalant look in return.

"What? They're together," Tangmo shrugged absentmindedly.

"I can see that," Elizabeth began, "but given your rather unkind teasing in the past, I'm just wondering why you're being so quiet."

"They're just honest with each other now, right?" Tangmo flashed Laura and Yuki an annoying grin, the two women responding with a raspberry. "It's not fun when they don't get angry. Besides, I'm already scrapping the bottom of the barrel with my jokes anyway."

"We were scared of how everyone will react," Laura added, uncharacteristically shy.

"You were, I wasn't," Yuki piped up.

"Quiet you! Anyway, I just say what the hell and come out. Admittedly, I was pleasantly surprised when he didn't make our lives miserable."

"Hey, I'm not that big of a dick," Tangmo held up his hands and laughed before turning his attention back to Elizabeth and Eleanor, "anyway, enough about us, how are you two feeling? I mean, it was nothing short of a miracle you two didn't bled out when Nikki and Yuki found you."

"It wasn't a miracle," Eleanor gave Elizabeth a solemn glance that was returned in kind.

"What do you mean?" Tangmo asked.

"We saw…" Eleanor went on with clear reservation, "a very pale girl standing above us, telling us that help was on the way."

"Was she wearing a tight black jean and black tank top?" Yuki spoke up.

"She was," Eleanor nodded her affirmative.

"And wearing an Egyptian ankh medallion?"

"I knew she was affiliated with you guys. So who was she? Some kind of magician?"

"She's Death, one of the many personification of the concept anyway."

"Are you serious?" Elizabeth couldn't believe what she was hearing. Death. A girl?

"We are," Laura said, "strange that she showed up in the Dishonored universe though. Maybe it's because you two were super important to the multiverse or the many rifts Elizabeth tore through the space time continuum caught her attention. Whatever it was, she's the reason you two didn't die."

"Well, as much as I want to thank her, I don't look forward to seeing her again," Elizabeth gave a wary smile.

"Okay, enough of this morbid shit," Tangmo cut in, "so, do you guys need anything?"

As if possessing a mind of their own, Elizabeth and Eleanor stomach chose that moment to make its presence know, the guttural rumbled was long and embarrassingly loud.

"That's not funny!" Eleanor pouted hard at the chortling three, their booming laughter echoing across the room.

"It kinda is," Tangmo's grin falter somewhat when Elizabeth shot him less than pleasant look, "sorry. Anyway, both of you are obviously hungry, so let me fix you guys something."

"You can cook?" Elizabeth was genuinely surprise, the sight of the death dealing Tangmo tying an apron around his waist was rather surreal, to say the least.

"Of course!" Tangmo chirped pleasantly as he strode over to the kitchen area behind the sofa, going about preparing the ingredients, the stoves and the pans. "I'm the best in the group!"

"That statement is a lie and you know it!" Laura announced hotly.

"Yeah!" Yuki added. "Everyone knows I'm the best!"

"Oh, really?!" Laura scooped up the squealing Yuki and carried her over to the couch, both plopping down on the cushion in giggling delights.

"So you're the best, eh?" Laura's fingers descended on Yuki's abdomen in a flurry of merciless tickling. "Are you sure about that my dear?!"

"Eek! Stop it! No! Not there!" Yuki squirmed and twisted under the relentless attack, laughing breathlessly. "Okay! Okay! You win! You're the best!"

"That's my girl," Laura gave Yuki a little peck on the lips before letting her go, both snuggling closer to each other. All the while Elizabeth and Eleanor can only watch, face red, at the unabashed display of loving intimacy. She wasn't a prude, well, maybe a little, but watching the Englishwoman and the Japanese cuddling, their slack t-shirts and short pants disheveled, revealing more than a decent amount of skin, was making Elizabeth rather uncomfortable. She was from 1912 for God sake!

"Look, as much as I enjoyed that," Tangmo waved a spatula at Elizabeth and Eleanor, "you two are kinda freaking them out."

"We're not freaked out!" Eleanor huffed.

"Sure you're not," Laura's sarcasm was hard to miss as she patted a spot beside her and Yuki, "come on, sit down. Both of you look about ready to collapse."

Straightening her back, Elizabeth seated herself primly down next to the entwining women, she and Eleanor keeping a friendly but respectable distant.

"So, what's your craving?" Tangmo asked.

"Give them something easy for the stomach," Yuki spoke up, "porridge and oatmeal, the runny stuff."

Tangmo gave Yuki a flat look before turning to Elizabeth, "when was the last time you ate anything?"

"I can't recall Columbia feeding us anything," Elizabeth admitted.

"Only some healing solution in a syringe," Eleanor added grimly.

"Sorry I asked," Tangmo grimaced, "so…pancakes and bacons?"

"That sounds lovely," Elizabeth said a little too eagerly.

"Extra syrup for me!" Eleanor beamed.

"Give me a couple of minutes," Tangmo smiled and began cracking eggs.

"So how are you guys holding up?" Laura asked, her attention darting between Elizabeth, Eleanor and the strange flashy fight on the television screen.

"Better than we had in weeks, but still a little tired," Elizabeth said, "how long were we locked up?"

"A week," Elizabeth had quite a hard time believing Laura. Only a week? It felt like months.

"Everything is over then?" Eleanor asked.

"Yeah," Yuki nodded, "Columbia, Sofia and Daisy are all dead, and what remained of the Rapture and Columbia forces were scattered across the multiverse. The others are hunting them down now."

"Mother…" Eleanor sighed, a heavy gloom coming over her visage.

"Oh Eleanor…" Elizabeth scooted closer and pulled her into a hug, a friendly, appropriate hug between two very close friends.

"Will the pain ever go away?" Eleanor pleading azure eyes met Elizabeth sapphire own. "After Booker…does the pain get any better?"

"Yes, it will," Elizabeth gave her leaden answer, "but the pain never truly leave. Eventually you'll get used to it, like a faded scar that reminds but did little else. You'll learn to live with it."

"I guess that's the best anyone can hope for," Eleanor managed a weak, but sincere smile, "at least I know I won't have to face it alone."

"That's right, I'm here for you Eleanor, through thick and thin."

"Thank you Elizabeth."

A loud 'aww' crooned to their right. Warm pink rising up their cheeks, Elizabeth and Eleanor spun to see Laura and Yuki watching them with the sweetest smile on their faces as they hurriedly pulled away, fidgeting and coughing nervously.

"Yo Tangmo, you just missed the cutest Disney moment in the world dude," Yuki called out to the boy.

"Trying not to burn the bacon here," Tangmo replied, absolutely absorbed in the cooking.

"Not as cute as us though," Laura said smugly.

"There's a big difference between a Disney cartoon and a hentai you know?" Tangmo utterance was received by Laura's middle finger.

"What's a hentai?" Elizabeth rolled the unfamiliar word around her mouth.

"Oh? Are you interested? Because I can show you all about it later tonight," Laura suggestive and alluring tone, combined with her extremely amorous wink, made Elizabeth skin crawled, the Scotswoman reveling in her squeamishness.

"So! What are you guys watching?" Eleanor came to her rescue, cutting in before Laura can utter another word.

"The 2016 Royal Rumble," Yuki gave Laura a chiding elbow in the ribs, "cut it out, she look about ready to pop a blood vessel."

"Hmph! You're no fun at all," Laura returned her attention to the loud and colorful spectacle.

"So what is this Royal Rumble?" Elizabeth asked.

"Professional wrestling," Yuki replied, "basically it's a scripted choreograph fight where men and women perform in front of a roaring audience of thousands. It's a violent exhibition where nobody really get hurts, a wholesome fun for the family to enjoy together."

"I see," Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully, "so it's a show, like Lassie and the Lone Ranger, but not like an actual boxing bout?"

"Exactly," Yuki smiled, "and this one we're watching is a Pay-per-view, a very big event. From the future no less! One of the many rewards the Master gave us after rescuing you two. He said there's a surprise during the Rumble that we would go gaga over."

Elizabeth was about to question the strange colloquialism called 'gaga' when the heavenly aroma of freshly cooked pancake wafted over her. Swallowing quickly so that she wouldn't start drooling, Elizabeth and Eleanor craned their head toward Tangmo who was still busy preparing the food.

"That smell really good," Eleanor mouth hung open, like a puppy waiting for her treat.

"Almost done," Tangmo said as he put away the apron.

"Hurry up mate, the Rumble is about to start," Laura called over her shoulder.

"And…finish!" Tangmo announced as he carried two steaming plate over and placed it on the coffee table. Arrayed before her was a five-stack tall, picture perfect pancake with strips of bacon draping over the top and drizzled with a decadent amount of maple syrup. Fresh and colorful mix of blueberries and strawberries circled the doughy circumference, a moat of blue and red around a castle of golden brown delicacy.

"Here," Tangmo placed a maple shaped bottle filled with amber, sluggish syrup on the coffee table before seating himself down beside Laura. "I don't how much is a lot, so help yourself."

"Thanks!" Sitting down on the floor, Eleanor was drowning the pancake in maple syrup as Elizabeth carved out a large piece and took a voracious bite. She almost wept at how delicious the fluffy cake was, the explosion of sweetness, made more scrumptious by the seeping syrup and the salty offset of the perfectly fried bacon, was simply too divine for words. She gave an embarrassingly loud, close mouthed moan that drew an appreciative laughter from Tangmo, beside her Eleanor looked about ready to leap off her feet with joy, trading giddy looks with Elizabeth. Fighting down the urge to simply gobble up the plate like she did back at Olorin's place, Elizabeth instead took her time with the meal, savoring every bite as she glanced up at the professional wrestling show.

"So, what's happening now?" Eleanor inquired, stuffing herself silly with a ridiculously large bite.

"From what I can tell," Yuki began, "Roman Reign, that big Samoan dude with a bullet vest, he's the hero by the way, must defend his championship against thirty opponents because the big corporate bad guys want to punish the upstart underdog."

"If he's the good guy, then why is everybody booing him?" Elizabeth observed as she plucks a strawberry into her mouth.

"Bloody smark pricks," Laura muttered lowly.

"Well, the audience doesn't like having a product they don't want shoved down their throats," Tangmo explained, "hence the less than warm reception."

Elizabeth was nibbling a crunchy strip of bacon when the Samoan uppercut a hulking, hairy Slavic looking man over the top rope to a deafening admonition of the crowd, feeling herself drawn to the action despite the painfully obvious staged nature of the fight.

"Bye Rusev, nice of you to drop by," Tangmo rolled his eyes.

"You know, I bet the whole surprise is that Roman wins again," Yuki said.

Laura hushed them both when a counter counting ten seconds appeared on the lower right corner of the screen. Placing down her fork and knife neatly on the empty plate, Elizabeth watched as the crowd counted down until a loud beep announced the counter reaching zero.

"Huh, someone new," Yuki said as a strange music blared from the television.

"Nah, it's probably one of the old guys coming back," Laura waved her off.

"That's a pretty loud pop," Tangmo observed as the crowd went ballistic, "why is the camera still on Roman? Who is…HOLY SHIT ITS AJ STYLES! AJ FUCKING STYLES!"

Elizabeth yelped in surprise when Tangmo, Laura and Yuki exploded into a loud cheer, the boy leaping off his feet and began running around the room in pure exaltation, while the two girls clung to each other, squealing their heads off.

"It happened!" Tangmo plopped back down, excited out of his mind. "It finally happened! Bullet Club for life!"

"So I guess he's a big deal?" Elizabeth asked conservatively.

"The most phenomenal wrestle to ever grace the face of the earth is now in the WWE," Tangmo went on breathlessly, "you darn tootin' this is a big deal!"

"Aww, that mean he's not in New Japan anymore," Yuki pouted glumly.

"But now we're getting a John Cena vs AJ Styles match love!" Laura laughed, shaking the smaller Japanese like a doll. Elizabeth and Eleanor could only smile as they watched the three gushed over the scripted fight, this other side of the usually lethal members of the Eight was refreshing and uplifting to see. Despite the many tribulations they must have endured, their humanity remained intact. Only a few could be so lucky, to live with physical and mental scars inflicted upon them yet still seeing the world as a half full place. And so, they found simple contentment in watching the unfolding drama, herself and Eleanor occasionally joining in the cheers and whoops, although nowhere near as loud as the other three. It only felt like a couple of minutes when the match came to an end, the Samoan good guy losing his belt to a bald, muscular bad guy.

"Triple H is gonna drop the title back to Roman at Mania, mark my words," Tangmo said.

"Are they really going to be that predictable?" Yuki inquired.

"Well, Vince is still running the show, so I wouldn't be surprise if that happens," Laura held the remote out to Eleanor, "here, you can watch whatever you want now."

"Thanks," Eleanor took the curved rectangular device, held it in her palm for a moment before saying, "but I think I had enough excitement in front of a television set for a day. I actually want to see more of this place though, right Elizabeth?"

"Indeed Eleanor," Elizabeth got up and stretched, "as much as I love to lie about, I think I want some fresh air."

"That's cool," Yuki and Laura rose from their seat, "but first, I think a little makeover is in order. I got something in the closet that I know will look amazing on you, let's go!"

Before neither of them can protest, Laura and Yuki took their arms and dragged them away from the communal room. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of a resigned smile from Tangmo before she stepped into the corridor, the boy going about cleaning their food. Gulping, Elizabeth hoped that 21st century fashion wasn't as outlandish as the futurist in her time had made them out to be. 

* * *

Eleanor had to admit that she was very receptive of Yuki's choice of clothing. As it turns out, things got a lot more liberal in the future, with the defining line of what was appropriate for a woman to where blurring to the point of nonexistence. Sporting a comfortable knee length beige pants and a breezy white button up shirt, Eleanor gave a delighted moan as she laid flat on a beach chair beneath an awning candy striped umbrella, watching the perfect blue horizon where the ocean meet the sky, the soft sound of crashing wave a pleasant music to her ears. Beside her, Elizabeth was reclining on another chair, a smile of pure relaxation plastered on her face. She was attired like Eleanor, with the only difference being that her pants was navy blue instead of light brown.

"I can just stay here forever," Elizabeth said wistfully.

"Knowing Mr. Master, I think we can if we ask him," Eleanor smiled at the idea, earning an approving nod from Elizabeth as they simply enjoyed each other company in peaceful silence, finally having the chance to cast aside their worries, no longer fearing what the coming hours may bring. After a few minutes, Eleanor spoke what was on her, and most definitely Elizabeth, minds:

"What now?"

"I…don't know," Elizabeth blinked a few time, "I honestly don't know. What do you think?"

"You're asking me?" Eleanor turned to look at the brunette.

"Why not? You seem to make better life choices than me."

Eleanor snorted, "after everything we been through, I beg the differ."

"I still trust your judgment nonetheless. So? Any idea?"

"Well…I mean, the most logical course of action would be to go back to our home universe, bunked up with Brigid until we can get back on our own feet, then I guess we move to a new place. Preferably not anywhere near Mercy Fall, or places where people will recognize us for that matter."

"A solid idea. Then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what comes after that? What do we do? Get on with our lives? Find a husband? Raise a family? After everything that we've been through, I find the concept of a domestic life to be rather contrive."

"I know what you mean. The prospect of returning to a mundane existence have lost its allure. Mind you, I don't look forward to repeating what we went through, but I got to admit that meeting new people and going to places beyond our wildest imagination was rather…thrilling."

"I would dare say that it was fun, even if Columbia was hounding us. Think of what we can learn from those countless worlds, what we can see, what we can do."

"Yeah, that does sounds nice," Eleanor was surprised to find herself agreeing. Despite the mortal danger they found themselves in, there was no denying how exhilarating the entire experience was. Ever since she'd surfaced from Rapture, Eleanor have been trying to find a purpose to her life, contemplating on what to do with the freedom she had so painstakingly won. Mercy Fall, unfortunately, wasn't the greatest place to muse such a deep existential query, the town seems content in its unchanging stagnation, not exactly the place to inspire thought of progress or advancement. And although the resurrection of Elizabeth did provided a brief interlude to her searching, devoting her time to heal the brunette mental affliction, now that she had made a full recovery, the question returns. Gazing at Elizabeth scrunched face, conflicted and unsure, Eleanor knew that the same uncertainty troubled her.

"So…" Eleanor braced herself for what she was about to say, knowing how absurd it will sound, "do you think we should hand in our résumé to the Eight?"

To Eleanor's surprise, Elizabeth's eyes glowed at her words, more than obvious that the same idea have been churning in her head.

"Can we really do that?" Elizabeth asked guardedly.

"I haven't a clue," Eleanor shrugged and got up, the warm sand felt nice on her feet, "but there's no harm in asking."

"I guess not," Elizabeth took her place beside Eleanor as they strolled back to the Eight's mansion, a building of an airy Mediterranean design that dominated a sizeable island, complete with archways, wide breezy balconies and an open dining area that maximize the full advantage of the sun and the wind. Climbing the marble stairs etched into the cliff face, the handrail smoothened to a gleam and the balusters meticulous carved into a pleasing conical spiral, the pair ascended to the mansion above. Reaching the garden at the top of the cliff, Eleanor was surprised to find Mr. Master himself there, tending to a patch of ruby red rose, the rapturous sound booming from the mansion interior indicated that the rest of the Eight was here.

"Oh! Hello girls!" Mr. Master put down the watering pot, wiped his hand on his coat, not the dirty fisherman kind but a handsomely made suit, and approach them with arms held wide. Eleanor and Elizabeth can only laugh as the big man wrapped them up in a fatherly hug. No matter how powerful he is, to her Mr. Master will always be the nice and kindly fisherman that had given her nothing but patient and care.

"So good to see you both again," Mr. Master released the embrace, "how are you feeling?"

"Very good, Mr. Master, thank you," Elizabeth smiled.

"Glad to hear!" Mr. Master nodded heartily. "If there's anything you want, just let me know."

"Actually, we do have something we wanted to ask," Eleanor began, "can we…maybe perhaps…help you?"

Mr. Master stared at them blankly, "I'm sorry, but I don't understand."

"I mean," Eleanor breathe deeply, arranging her thought, "the whole multiverse balance and canon thing. Maybe we can help? Like what the Eight are doing?"

His incomprehension faded, and in its place a startled understanding, mouth hanging agape and eyes bulging from his skull.

"Oh…" the big man appeared a little dazed as he stumbled toward the wide railing by the cliff, leaning his thick forearms on the stone surface, "I see."

"I know this sounds really weird," Eleanor admitted as she and Elizabeth joined him, "but after everything that has happened, I don't think I can go back to a none descriptive life when I know that there is so much more out there."

"I agree," Elizabeth added, "when we were in Mercy Fall, we merely existed, living each day in repetitious routine, with no goal or aspiration to strive forward. But now, we believe that we can put our power to a higher purpose, helping people, worlds and what not."

Mr. Master was silent as he gazed at the calm ocean, the rolling field of blue glittered like sapphire against the sun infinite radiance. After a few minutes of chilly silence Mr. Master spoke again, all warmth gone from his voice, and in its place grim solemnity:

"I can't let you join the Eight," Eleanor heart sank at the announcement, shocked by how deep the disappointment cut despite knowing that her request was more than likely going to be met with rejection. Beside her Elizabeth looked as equally crestfallen to Mr. Master unyielding words that left little for argument.

"You won't be joining the Eight on their mission," Mr. Master shook his head, ignoring the hurt look both her and Elizabeth was casting his way, "no, you two will be assigned to the auxiliary unit."

"Auxiliary unit?" Elizabeth perked up.

"The cosmos is way too big for the Eight to handle alone," Mr. Master explained, "no matter how good they are, they can't be everywhere at once. That's why I have several other people from different universes to help me out when the Eight are occupied. You met some of them already, Anomander Rake and Gandalf are but a few that helps maintain the stability of the multiverse, doing things like scouting, reconnaissance, support detail or routine checkup. And from this point on, you two shall be joining the illustrious rank of heroes and heroines fighting against the legion of villains trying to throw the universe into chaos." He shot them a devious look then. "That is, if you're really committed. It's totally alright to get cold feet though, I won't hold it against you."

Oh! Getting a little cheeky are we? Well, Eleanor wasn't the kind of person to back out of a deal, a sharp retort ready on the tip of her tongue.

"You should know by now that we're not the sort to run away," and Elizabeth stole her thunder with a haughty look directed at Mr. Master, "we're in."

"Yeah! We never back down!" Coming in second, the phrase wasn't as powerful as Eleanor had imagined it to be.

"That settles it then," the summery gusto returned to Mr. Master, a smile splitting his face, "welcome to our crazy little family of misfits."

Eleanor and Elizabeth shared a triumphant smile, nervous and excited in equal measure.

"So when do we start?" Eleanor asked.

"Not so fast ladies, there are still some detail that needs to be taken care of before sending you off," Mr. Master wiggled his finger at them.

"What kind of details?" Elizabeth now inquired.

"Well things like your power levels and where you would make your residence," Mr. Master went on.

"This place look nice enough," Eleanor observed.

"Yeah, but this is just one of the many universe I've commandeered for the Eight to use as a safe house. There are a lot more that you can choose from, but I'll keep this one in the market since you've shown interest."

"Is this really important right now?"

"Probably not, all of that stuff can be decided at your leisure," Mr. Master paused then, looking suddenly worried as he turned to regard them. "You might want to visit Brigid and Sally before heading out, I think they both deserve to know your life decision."

Eleanor nodded solemnly. The good doctor was the closest thing she ever had to a real mother, the one good memory from that dark sunken city. Yes, Brigid needed to know what she had decided to do.

"How long will we be gone?" Elizabeth asked.

"Indefinitely," Mr. Master said.

"So we'll never see them again?"

"Oh, you will. See, I can manipulate time between realms. You can be gone from your home universe for years on end and come back to find that only a couple of weeks had passed for Brigid and Sally. I can tweak the time to your liking by the way."

"That's nice and convenient," Elizabeth mused.

"I know right? I mean, from where the Eight came from, not even a second had passed."

"I see," Eleanor said, "so I guess we know where to go first. What comes after that?"

"Welp," there was a mischievous glint in Mr. Master's eyes, "since you two have been through so much, I think a little R&R is in order. Your training and mission can come after that."

"So we're staying here for the time being?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh no," Mr. Master toothy smile was childishly charming, "I have something a lot better in mind."

Brow irking quizzically, Eleanor and Elizabeth shared a look as Mr. Master gave a impish chuckle before heading back toward the mansion, waving them to follow.

"Come on girls," he said, "you need to pack." 

* * *

The morning sky was a perfect blue, wispy white cloud drifted lazily across the clear vista like delicate brush strokes on a canvas. Around her, people emerged from the pristine rows of townhouses to the low rumbling bustle of wakening humanity. A baker was placing the day's first batch of bread along his store windows, a florist went about watering the hungry blooming petals, early commuters with spritely gait strolling off to work, children skipping down the paved road with friends, eager for school.

"I'm here…" Elizabeth was breathless as she leaned on the stone bridge arching over the tranquil Seine, beyond the gentle river Paris rose against the rising sun, the beautiful metropolis that she had dreamed of coming since she could remember. And now she was here, not some fanciful conjuration she'd used to escape mingling guilt but the actual Paris, in a real universe that she can breathe and feel. After so long she was finally here.

"And here I thought you would be leaping with joy," Eleanor held out a handkerchief toward Elizabeth.

"I am happy," Elizabeth took the cloth and dabbed her teary eyes, "these are tears of joy, if you must know."

"I can see that," Eleanor smirked and took back the handkerchief, coming to stand beside Elizabeth, "this place really is beautiful."

"Better than the books, that's for sure," Elizabeth nodded, the city has indeed transcend her expectation. Admittedly, when Mr. Master had said that he was taking them to a place where they can rest up, Elizabeth never expected it to be Paris, 1912, idyllic in its classical appearance and shining in its prime at the turn of the century modernity.

"Did Mr. Master mention how long we can stay?" There was an undeniable excitement in Eleanor tone.

"As long as we like," Elizabeth beamed as she reached into the purse slung across her shoulder. Both she and Eleanor were dressed the same, in a fashionable but period appropriate clothing, a narrow dress and blouse topped off with breezy, comfortable jacket. What differentiates the pair was the color, Elizabeth was shaded in blue while Eleanor in beige, which made her look somewhat like Rosalind, much to the younger girl charging.

"I really need to learn how to use this thing," Elizabeth took out a flat plastic device, an iPhone 7 as the Eight called it, the latest model in smart phone technology. It was like the PDA from Mars but sleeker, smaller and easier to use.

"That's what he told us to use when we're ready to leave, right?" Eleanor asked.

"Yeah," Elizabeth gave the screen a few experimental tap, surprised by how sharp and quick the response was, "but that's not going to happen anytime soon."

Smiling her assent, Eleanor threw her arms around Elizabeth suddenly, shaking vigorously, "I can't believe we're really here!"

"Eleanor! People are staring!" Elizabeth squeaked.

"Well, you're American, I'm English, they'll just think we're some quirky tourist," Eleanor laughed and let her go, "don't be so tense Elizabeth."

"I am not!" Elizabeth tried to pout but found herself giggling instead.

"That's more like it!" Eleanor grabbed her hand and began dragging her down the bridge. "Come on! We got an entire day ahead of us!"

"Oh no!" Elizabeth tightened her grip and took the lead. "I'm the one in charge!"

Laughing, the pair bounded down the road and was entering a boulevard lined with trees and roses when Elizabeth skidded to a stop and began rummaging through her purse.

"Forgot something?" Eleanor asked.

"I saw Yuki and Laura did this the other day," Elizabeth pulled out a white EarPods from her purse.

"Oh, so we're like that now?" Eleanor smirk deviously.

"Oh shut up," Elizabeth groaned and fumbled to connect the cord to the iPhone. After a moment she managed to plug it in and began tapping the screen, opening up an icon labeled 'music'.

"Here, put this on," Elizabeth handed Eleanor one of the circular earpiece, "might as well have a soundtrack for our little adventure."

"What do you have in mind?" Eleanor pushed the daggling plastic into her right ear, while Elizabeth did the same with her left.

"Henry and Damien made a selection for us," Elizabeth swiped down until she found a folder named 'Song for Elizabeth and Eleanor'. Tapping with her thumb, Elizabeth pressed the first song on the list, a chirpy, happy guitar and banjo strumming greeted her and Eleanor.

" _Yeah it's been a bumpy road_ ," the first verse began, " _rollercoaster high and low. Fill the tank and drive the car, pedal fast, pedal hard, you won't have to go that far_."

"This is really good," Eleanor commented as she and Elizabeth jogged down the street, their spritely steps drawing amused look from the Parisians.

"I know, right? I didn't think the Eight would listen to this kind of music," Elizabeth agreed as the next verse began.

" _You wanna give up 'cause it's dark,_ " the male and female duet continued, " _we're really not that far apart_."

When the chorus began, Elizabeth and Eleanor could only stare at each other in pleasant surprise, both their hearts swelling at how well the lyrics described their current feelings and the future that beckons them.

" _So let your heart, sweet heart, be your compass when you're lost and you should follow it wherever it may go. When it's all said and done, you can walk instead of run, 'cause no matter what you'll never be alone. Never be alone._ "

"Yeah," Elizabeth smiled warmly at Eleanor, "we'll never be alone."

Letting go of Elizabeth, Eleanor drew her into another embrace, this one warm and soothing, absent unneeded vitality.

"Thank you Elizabeth," Eleanor pulled away, the corner of her eyes suddenly brimming with tear.

"Hey, we are best friend, remember?" Elizabeth wiped a stray drop from Eleanor cheek with a delicate swipe of her finger before it can ruin her makeup.

"It's just," Eleanor sniffed, "nobody ever said I was their best friend before."

"Me neither," Elizabeth lips quivered, accompanied by a less than serious puppy eye sobbing, "am I your best friend too?"

"Of course you are," Eleanor gave the shorter Elizabeth a pat on the head, managing to be both endearing and a little condescending at the same time, "so where do we go first?"

"I know just the place, come on!" Elizabeth grabbed Eleanor's hand again and together they skipped down the street of Paris, feeling truly free and happy for the first time in her life, no longer shackled by the yoke of the past and reaching for the bright shining future absent fear or obstruction. Elizabeth didn't know what destiny had in store, but with Eleanor at her side, they were ready to face it together.

The song was ending now, and Elizabeth found herself singing the last verse along with Eleanor, their voices joining in gleeful harmony.

" _When it's all said and done, you can walk instead of run. 'Cause no matter what you'll never be alone…_ " 

* * *

**And that's the end of the Multiverse Project: Bioshock! Thank you for reading my little fan fic! I would also like to thank the beautiful, incomparable people who has favorite and followed my work. Also, a special shout out to those who had left a comment: Dragonsoul1, Sgt. Éclair, Darksider1073 and especially Shadow who has reviewed every chapter, thank you kind sir or madam!**

 **So what's next? Well the story of Elizabeth and Eleanor will definitely not end here, but for the moment I'm giving the two a little break. Hey, they deserve it!**

 **Anyway, here's what's coming up next for the Multiverse Project:**

 **Definitely writing:**

 **The Multiverse Project: Warhammer 40k (Already working on the first chapter).**

 **The Multiverse Side-Project: Elizabeth & Eleanor (All the ideas are planned out).**

 **The Multiverse Detour: The Wheel of Time (on book five at the moment but got spoiled by the internet years ago, so I know the ending).**

 **Still on the fence whether to write or not:**

 **The Multiverse Project: Overwatch. The concept seems fun, but I have no plot to speak of.**

 **The Multiverse Project: The Witcher. Got some ideas but still need to flesh it out.**

 **The Multiverse Project: For Honor. Looks interesting but I heard the fanbase is dead.**

 **Anyway, that's all for now. Thank you for reading and stay tune for more!**


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